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thewadapan · 5 years

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I rewrote the most infamous Transformers comic of all time.

I wanna give fair warning here. See, when I started working on this comic, I wasn’t really expecting it to turn out quite as dark as it did, and I suspect neither are you. After all, this is The Beast Within, right? The story where Grimlock goes crazy and talks in Comic Sans? How bad can things get? It turns out that - with just a few decisions made in poor taste - the answer is “very”, to the point where I feel the need to stick some kinda content warning at the top of this post. Unfortunately, I also feel like I’ve got a responsibility to the story, and there’s no way for me to do so without ruining it, so this is the best you’re gonna get.

This isn’t the first time I’ve made a comic like this. All the way back in 2016, I made “its christmas... so what??”, a kinda-bad re-lettering of a four-page ‘80s Marvel comic called “The Night the Transformers Saved Christmas”. I wasn’t too happy with the result, so half a year later I tried again - producing “PASS”, a re-lettered version of an obscure six-page UK-exclusive Marvel comic originally titled “Peace”.

“The Beast Within (My Pants)” is quite a different, uh, beast.

Each of the three comics I’ve produced was intended to be the last of its kind - standalone, yet fitting into the same overarching continuity. You can read any one of them alone, or you can read all of them in the order I made them. They’re individually available as albums on Imgur at the following links:

“its christmas... so what??”

“PASS”

“The Beast Within (My Pants)”

Alternatively, you can download the whole set as .cbz files - renamed .zip archives of images which you can open with a standard comic book reader.

It’s not too late to turn back.

Still with me? All caught up? Good. You’re probably wondering what the hell I was thinking...

I. I Have Summoned You Here For A Reason

Our story begins all the way back in 2004. The UK company Metrodome, looking to spice up their DVD box-set releases of the original ‘80s The Transformers cartoon, hired some local talent in the form of Mr. Jamieson (owner of a then-notable fansite) to write up some bonus features. They also commissioned him to write a mini-comic to be packed in with the set - with art by Mr. Gibson, a self-proclaimed fan since childhood with seemingly no other ties to the franchise.

The comic wound up being published in two parts (the second being subtitled “Consequences”) across the “Season 2 Part 2″ and “Seasons 3 and 4″ box sets. As a kid, I actually owned the latter of those box sets, and would watch it almost religiously - to what I can only assume must’ve been great annoyance from my poor parents - but I have no memory of it including a comic of any kind. Maybe it did, but it got separated at some point, and is lying around in some forgotten folder. A damn shame, that is. No, seriously.

I’m sure some record of the fan response at the time exists out there, in the doldrums of one of the many hard-to-search often-defunct forums which existed back then. I can’t really be bothered looking for it, sorry. You’ll have to content yourself with this TFWiki talk page for “The Beast Within” from mid-2007, which speaks of “Consequences” in hushed tones - as though it is a fabled artifact, prophesied to bring about Armageddon.

Another record - this one from 2009 - comes in the form of an eight-page TFW2005 thread ominously titled “Anyone afraid of the Dinobot combiner?” If you’re reading this commentary, you’re already strapped in for the long run; I recommend reading the thread in full. Well, okay, I don’t: it made me wince throughout, and I’ll be explaining the salient bits here, so there’s really no point subjecting yourself to it.

User “Razorrider”, after reading the TFWiki article on the Beast, opened the thread, noting “I don’t feel afraid of him myself.” The reactions soon started to pour in - some agreeing that the design was in fact “awesome”, others describing it as “hideous”.

Just going off my own personal opinion here, I think it’s fair to say that effectively nobody on the first page of the thread had any idea what they were talking about - and the pages that follow fared little better.

I think the main issue stemmed from the fact that a lot of those users didn’t think to explain the metrics by which they judged a “good” design (or, indeed, a “bad” story). When one person says “I think Optimus Prime has a good design”, they might just mean “I think he looks cool”, or they might mean “I think his proportions and colours give him a heroic stature which reflects his personality”. In that sense, a “good design” is one that communicates aspects of a character visually, even if it’s ugly. The Beast is hideous, yes, misshapen, yes, and it looks like the result of a teleportation accident, fine - but those are all intentional design decisions that perfectly reflect the nature of the character. In the foreword to the first part, Mr. Gibson notes the following (you’ll have to imagine that it’s written in Comic Sans for yourself):

Creating ‘The Beast’ was probably the most interesting aspect of the project. I wanted him to be a grotesque, twisted character that contained the design elements of the Dinobots he is created from.

People proclaim that the Beast “should never have existed” - a line from the comic’s narration, note - but somehow fail to realise that this is the comic’s own intent.

(Compare the Beast’s design to that posted by one user on the second page of the thread, which - minus an admittedly-inspired Triceratops-fist - just looks like an upscaled version of Grimlock.)

Okay, the alarm bells should be ringing in your head now. This is all starting to sound disturbingly like I’m some sort of The Beast Within apologist, isn’t it? How slippery is the slope that leads from “the Beast is a good design” to “The Beast Within is a good comic?” Have the hours spent poring over this thing in MS Paint turned my brain to mush, capable of only vague all-caps-Comic-Sans-penned ponderings?

...Well, yes, but- look, just stick with me!

The most accurate recurring statement in the thread - though perhaps not in the way it is intended - is that The Beast Within reads like a work of “fanfiction”. See, Transformers is a franchise with an ever-growing history, and many of those who work on it now have been lifelong fans themselves. This is true of many franchises which have stumbled into the new millennium, finding themselves seemingly unable to die. We live in an age of fanfiction - yet some fanfictions are fanfiction-ier than others.

When compared to the likes of Star Wars and Star Trek and Marvel’s comics, one sees a marked difference in Transformers. Throughout the ‘80s and ‘90s, every story Hasbro put out seemed to fit vaguely into a single guiding narrative - each distinct strand of their multimedia barrage falling into contradiction with one another, yet still seeking to adapt some underlying premise. The 2001 series Robots in Disguise - in the West at least - saw a complete departure from that narrative. The ramifications of that strange borderline-afterthought cartoon cannot be understated, yet in retrospect feel like they’ve been a part of the franchise for as long as anyone can remember.

Almost every year since, Hasbro has effectively wiped the slate clean. Each new series tries to be its own thing. Continuity between series - if it exists - is understated, ignored, or overwritten. To date, this is still something that confuses us geeks; so used are we to the mired pits that are the canons of Star Wars and its ilk. This can be frustrating - there are only so many times one can retread the same story - but so too has this rare cycle allowed authors to really explore the concepts and themes presented by the premise of “car robots” to a level of depth which I believe is simply unattainable in franchises which adhere stringently to a single narrative.

That’s the bright side.

In practise, many Transformers stories have become increasingly myopic - existing only in service of themselves, or (more often) in service of older (better?) stories. The single most influential of these stories is almost certainly 1986′s The Transformers: The Movie, and it’s that influence which is felt most strongly in The Beast Within.

Of the countless insights offered by Terry van Feleday - if you don’t know who that is, don’t worry, I’ll explain later - I find that this one rings most true:

When Optimus Prime du jour mouths off “One shall stand, one shall fall” for the twentieth time, there is simply no longer that understanding that he will not be the one who stands.

Where so many modern Transformers stories are misguided recreations of the animated movie, The Beast Within is a reaction to it. But we’ll get to that. First, let’s talk a little about the story’s artwork.

Mr. Gibson himself, I believe, deserves almost none of the criticism he’s received over the years for his work on this comic. Though his layouts are occasionally cluttered, and he does seem to have been trying a little too hard to emulate the style of Pat Lee (the man behind Dreamwave Productions; license holder for Transformers comics at the time) in the first part, his panels have a strong sense of energy and tone.

Though he didn’t exactly get to explore a broad range of emotions over the course of the comic, he managed to keep the characters expressive - always a challenge, when dealing with visors and mouthplates - and, crucially for a cast of this size, on-model. Look at the fury on Razorclaw’s face! The way Prime’s fist flies out of the panel! Menasor, torn in two! Predaking’s sundered legs! The mishmash of heads inside the Beast! The sickly colours of the second half! While it lacks the practised ease seen from some fans-turned-creators on more recent books, it’s still impressive work.

Regardless, Mr. Gibson’s first outing with Transformers proved to be his last. He didn’t end up getting paid work from Dreamwave Productions as he’d perhaps hoped (though in retrospect, neither did most of the people who illustrated for that company, so that was probably for the best). There’s no mention of The Beast Within on his personal website, which bills him as a “children’s picture book illustrator”, amongst other things. To put it simply, the guy’s always been a talented illustrator, and his style’s come a long way since this comic - the portfolio work on his website is very impressive.

(On a whim, I went back to late 2004 on the internet archive, and did in fact find the comic’s first spread buried at the back end of his portfolio. The entire website is a product of the early-2000s - there’s a link labelled “Go to Flash site” in the sidebar, though the page it takes you to sadly seems to have been lost to time. It all seems like it was borne of another age entirely.)

Anyway, let’s get back to that TFW2005 thread. The thing that makes it particularly notable is that, on the fourth page, Mr. Jamieson himself wades in to try and set the record straight. It goes about as well as you’d expect.

For a lot of people, I think, the idea of interacting with an author might seem strange. They’re aware of J.K. Rowling’s online antics, and are becoming increasingly comfortable with celebrity interactions on Twitter, sure. But there’s a difference between those kinds of interactions and the kind that take place on forums or in chatrooms - places where everyone’s on a level playing field. I come from those corners of the internet, and am lucky enough to have had conversations with lots of people who’ve made things I like, and have seen almost the full range of approaches those people take when dealing with their audiences. It’s safe to say that Mr. Jamieson’s approach in that decade-old thread is just about the worse one there is: over the course of just five posts, he smugly lashed out at the people in the thread, whipping them into a fervour that lasted for three more pages after his departure.

Regardless of whether or not Mr. Jamieson was correct - in the attacks he levelled at the other users, in the defence he offered for his work - there can be no question that this kind of behaviour is grossly inappropriate.

(Whether it is more or less appropriate than digging up old threads and archived web pages in an attempt to justify a bastardisation of a much-maligned comic book remains to be seen, I suppose.)

The key point that Mr. Jamieson kept returning to is that he sought to avoid the dreaded “info dump” (a hallmark of early Transformers stories), and didn’t want his readers to be “spoon fed”. A recurring criticism of the story is that it seems to begin halfway through, with little explanation for what’s going on - but I, like Mr. Jamieson, don’t think that complaint holds water. The Beast Within begins “in medias res” because we already have the context: eighty issues of a comic, ninety-eight episodes of a cartoon, and - crucially - a movie. Everyone knows the story of the Transformers, because the story of the Transformers - ironically enough - never really changes. “Is it ever really over, Jetfire?”

(That’s the last line of the original version of The Beast Within, by the way. I had to add the comma in myself.)

Like the impact of Robots in Disguise, the impact of The Transformers: The Movie is kinda hard to see unless you were there at the time - and I wasn’t - but in 1986, it did something which was profoundly shocking to thousands of children: it introduced them to death.

That’s about all I’m going to say about the movie itself, because much more experienced critics than me have already mined it for every ounce of subtext. I’ve already quoted the work of Terry van Feleday, who did some excellent scene-by-scene analysis of the film in a thread all the way back in 2010 - and I’ll come back to her writings a few times in this post. This very year, sorta-famous YouTuber hbomberguy released his own long-form take on the movie - what I find interesting when comparing the two interpretations is that van Feleday struggles to find much merit in the movie outside of its opening, while hbomberguy employs a reading that allows him to be much more optimistic and charitable even towards the end of the movie.

In a way, I think Mr. Jamieson had an intuitive subconscious understanding of the subtext which both of those critics later brought to light, an understanding which directly informed the premise of The Beast Within. In the same way one can read the monster planet Unicron as a physical manifestation of death, so too can one view the Beast - and Mr. Jamieson (almost certainly unconsciously) posits that, although death does not belong in a children’s cartoon, it is an inevitability that all children must eventually face. It is the dark spectre that lurks beneath the surface of every childish thing made by an adult.

An author places some of themselves in a book - but the reader withdraws something of their own perception as well. I wondered what I might see in the book: a child believes a lie because they know no better; a grown adult sees the lie because it fails to line up with experience. In this way, a child’s story could be so many different experiences. With enough subtext, a thing made for a child becomes an entirely different world to an adult. [...] There’s no telling when subtext will defeat the facade of a thing.

(I’ll tell you what that quote’s from later.)

I wonder, perhaps, if the endless swathes of edgy reimaginings of children’s stories are something of a mass outcry from those who grew up being told - every Saturday morning - that when people got blown apart, they’d be put back together by the next week’s end. What was it like for those children, in December of ‘86, to learn that some people could never be rebuilt?

II. It Pleases Me To Be The First

It occurs to me that I never did really do a commentary on “its christmas... so what??”, although I did talk about it a little in the commentary for “PASS”. Its title is a reference to the famous (well, you know what I mean) cover of “Stargazing” (issue #145 of the original UK run), which featured a banner reading “IT’S CHRISTMAS!” over an image of Starscream, arms out, yelling “SO WHAT?”

(Side note: at first I thought that I hadn’t read that particular story, but it occurs to me that as a kid I used to borrow a lot of Titan Books’ reprints from my local library - and I do in fact have distinct memories of reading Transformers: Second Generation, which did collect “Stargazing” amongst other Christmas stories - so I guess I probably did read it, even if I don’t remember doing so.)

The Women’s Day comic is something of a curio, as explained in this excellent article (which reprints the comic - with its original text - in full). It’s basically the only US strip which was published outside of the eighty issues of the run proper. This rare, standalone nature is something I have sought across every re-lettering I’ve done - from the UK annual-exclusive not-by-the-usual-author set-in-the-future “Peace” to the UK DVD-box-set-exclusive set-in-an-ambiguous-cartoon-inspired-continuity The Beast Within. These works feel like they’ve been lost to time - and corrupting them feels like unearthing buried treasure (and smearing it in turds). But I’ll get to that.

Back to “its christmas”. As I explained last time, I just went through the comic panel-by-panel and changed stuff to whatever I thought would be funny. I didn’t edit the two-line introductory blurb (which ended up informing the backstory detailed in the new set of AtoZ profiles). I barely paid attention to established portrayals of the characters beyond Soundwave’s association with music. I had no large-scale plans.

There’s a lazy (and poorly-conceived) gag where the little girl calls Bumblebee “gay” (also note that at the time, I misinterpreted the art in the third panel of the third page - I thought it was the girl speaking, when in fact it was her mother - leading to some erroneous dialogue), which in retrospect feels like a less-drawn-out version of the excruciating opening scene from Freddery McMahon’s Combiner Wars abridged special. That spoof somehow manages to be less funny than its source material, and I sometimes think that the same holds for my own creations.

Still, that’s not to say that “its christmas” doesn’t do anything that I like. I’ll admit that lines like “lol without mustard christmas will be CANCEL suck it nerds”, “toot toot here come some flutes”, and “help me drag it to the hospital” still kinda make me laugh. I like the way Bumblebee drowns out the little girl’s insults by tooting loudly at her. The final panels - wherein the humans steal Bumblebee’s blood as the other Transformers watch impassively - have an offbeat intensity to them, and when it came to writing Bumblebee’s AtoZ profile it was those which I chose to call back to.

If I had to sum up “its christmas” in a single word, I’d pick “childish”. The jokes, the characters themselves, the entire concept behind the comic - all feel kinda immature, and that was kinda by design. Summer Meme Sundae was a terrible piece of work, but - if I had to ascribe a theme to it - that theme would be growing up; realising that you’re running out of summer holidays. “PASS” and “The Beast Within (My Pants)” kept that atmosphere, but became increasingly cynical and obscene. That was just the natural direction they had to go in.

III. Every Place Reminds You Of Some Place Else

I’ve long had an idle fascination with abridged series, and have toyed with the thought of making an abridged series of my own. Most notably, I’ve long fancied the idea of abridging Machinima’s Prime Wars Trilogy of Transformers cartoons. Here’s an extract from a message I posted in Allspark Chat (the Discord server associated with the Allspark Forums):

I'd probably try and keep Megatron mostly the same as he is in the show as it is. Optimus'd be kinda murderous - you can tell he can't wait for Rodimus and the rest of the Council to kick the bucket so he can retake unilateral control over Cybertron. I'd maybe try to go for something of a more sympathetic Starscream - he wouldn't actually have any plan, he just has Cybertron's interests at heart and ends up trying to use the Enigma solely to rid the world of Megatron and Optimus forever. Windblade'd maybe be trying to force some hero's journey stuff - picking fights with progressively bigger opponents in a misguided attempt to prove her narrative worth

As pitches go, it’s not much. It doesn’t help that, as I previously mentioned, Freddery McMahon himself - pretty much the only name in Transformers abridging - has already tackled the series; his style of parody isn’t really to my taste, but his production value is fairly impressive and would largely overshadow any improvements I made on a script level. I feel like the Prime Wars Trilogy has potential, because it’s a fascinating piece of media, but I find myself unable to answer the question of how to parody something that already feels so much like self-parody. Sound familiar?

By the time the last entry in that series - Power of the Primes - was wrapping up, I'd been posting semi-frequently in the Allspark’s threads with a borderline-apologetic tone. Takes included:

The emptiness of Cybertron lends it a Beast Machines-esque tone

The Mistress of Flame’s death is cathartic

You can see right through the script

I want to get off Machinima’s wild ride

Wow, Windblade sure screams a lot, doesn’t she

The finale of Titans Return is good, actually

Hearing Megatron say “piss me off” is an unpleasant surprise

Hey, this soundtrack’s pretty good

Wait, no it’s not, but Galvatron’s implied reversion to Megatron is

Narrative emergence gives rise to Buddhist allegories in TFTM

Grimlock acts like his cartoon self - but only around friends

Okay, for realsies, the soundtrack’s good now

They’re right to kill Sludge; he’s the least toyetic Dinobot

I’d probably describe a lot of what I saw in the Prime Wars Trilogy as a kind of narrative pareidolia - only instead of seeing faces in inanimate objects, I was seeing value and meaning in an indefensible web series.

The problem with abridged series is that they require a ridiculous amount of effort. You need to be a good writer in the traditional sense, but you need to be able to work around the visual material available - you’re gonna have to edit everything yourself, you’re probably gonna need to do custom animation, and you’re certainly gonna need to wrangle a cast of voice actors. All of that for ten minutes of animation that’s probably gonna get taken off YouTube within ten minutes of upload. It’s just not feasible - and yet there’s part of me that loves the idea: commentary and content, all rolled into one.

To pretend that it was Combiner Wars that led me to create “The Beast Within (My Pants)” is a little misleading, however. The real answer - I’m sorry to say - has more to do with ponies.

See, every now and again I get very acute nostalgia for My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic, which was perhaps my first brush with fandom - or at least, proper fandom. It’s heard to measure these things, y’know? Anyway, when that happens, I realise that I don’t really want to sit and watch a cartoon for little girls, so I usually just listen to some fan-made music or - as was the case last time - rewatch one of the abridged series based on the show. I use the word “series” here in plural because there were in fact two (well, two that matter): Friendship is Witchcraft and The Mentally Advanced Series. There’s long been quiet debate over which of the two is the (soundwave) superior series, and I’ve historically believed that they’re (buy some) apples and oranges. The latter is a more thoughtful parody of the source material, while the former is more polished and standalone.

However, after blitzing through Friendship is Witchcraft once more in its entirety over the course of a couple of days, something about it clicked for me - a bigger-picture thesis - and I realised that it had much more to say about its source material than I (or, well, most people) had given it credit for. It was at that moment that I felt the awful urge to create a My Little Pony fanwork of my own.

(The quote I used earlier, about subtext in children’s stories, was spoken by Princess Celestia in Rainbow Dash Presents: The Star in Yellow, a Mentally Advanced Series special inspired by a fanfiction which, fittingly enough, was written by Matt Marshall (AKA Blueshift/blue/Yartek/RockLordsRock), who was also the man behind the infamous “JaAm” relettering which effectively inspired all of these projects of mine. It’s like poetry.)

As we’ve already established, making a fancy-schmancy animation was out of the question - but a crudely-edited-in-MS-Paint comic was the next best thing, clearly. I started glancing through IDW Publishing’s official My Little Pony comics - having purchased a few in a Humble Bundle many years ago - but, aside from a couple of promising stories, quickly realised I didn’t have much hope. The comics are just, to put it frankly, not as good or as interesting as the show, and the fact that I’d need to adapt at least two issues at once (over forty pages) to tell any complete story made doing so an unappetising prospect. Furthermore, IDW’s comics are still very much in print, and (as the abridged series show) any such parody would stand on shaky legal ground.

Seeing as I wasn’t about to delve into the dark realm of prose any time soon, and the idea of messing with some other fan’s work rubbed me the wrong way, I decided to give up on my equine dreams and instead turned back to more familiar territory. I glanced over the list of old Transformers Marvel comics, but nothing like those I’d previously relettered stood out to me. I perused the short stories included in Dreamwave’s 20th Anniversary Transformers Summer Special. I even looked into some Fun Publications stuff. Nothing sparked my interest.

Perhaps my most promising lead was “An Arcee Sort of Day”, a vaguely-maligned (as in, “meh”) three-page standalone comic released mere months ago by IDW as part of an anthology - but the poor resolution of the available scan (the comic had been released in its entirety as part of the free preview for the anthology) meant that editing it would be a nightmare, and there was very little in the way of dialogue for me to mess with besides. More than that, the idea of directly mocking a comic from a compilation designed to showcase female creators (particularly one featuring Arcee, who’s been a controversial character in recent years) struck me as tasteless in the extreme. If only I had an easier target!

Oh wait, I did.

IV. Let The Slaughter Begin

If I actually ever read both parts of The Beast Within before starting work on this project, I don’t remember doing so. I do remember reading the Beast’s TFWiki page when I was much younger, and remember feeling like the wiki’s take on the concept seemed disproportionately harsh. To be honest, it was quite vindicating to read the source material and discover that I still agreed with my younger self’s assessment - the problems with the story are not on a conceptual level, but in the execution.

I barely gave myself time to digest the story before diving in and working out how exactly I could mess it up. I knew from my previous comics that the Autobots would all be unrepentant shitheads, so the natural choice was to portray the Decepticons as favourably as possible. Where the Autobots are callous, poorly-spoken, stupid, and divided, the Decepticons would be caring, articulate, intelligent, and united. In the story’s context, these traits would be weaknesses: remember, only the Beast has the killing instinct needed for decisive victory in this endless children’s story. I also knew that everybody in the story would hate Grimlock, and that - unlike with Roadbuster in “PASS” - they’d be right to do so.

That was pretty much the extent of my planning. I gathered up all the pages and started clearing out the text from the speech bubbles. Already, I had something of a problem: the use of the infamous Comic Sans MS font in the first part of The Beast Within was one of its most iconic features, and I wanted to retain that, but my own previous reletterings had canonically established Times New Roman as the “voice” of the Autobots. In fact, as far as those older comics were concerned, Times New Roman was the voice not just of the whole Cybertronian race, but also of the narrator.

The only lines which used a different font were those where I’d chosen to retain the comic’s original lettering, and with Roadbuster’s dialogue. It’s hard to articulate what exactly the joke with Roadbuster was - he seemed like the odd-one-out in the opening panels of the story, so I ran with that by having him be persistently ostracised by the other Autobots. The twist, as you find out when he finally speaks, is that he seems to be the only Autobot who’s unambiguously a good person; the rest bully him for effectively no reason.

In the commentary for “PASS” I released earlier this year, I explicitly ask:

If these are the Autobots… then what were the Decepticons like?

My own gut feeling was, I think, that they were people like Roadbuster - genuinely good individuals who never wanted a fight - and so for this comic I knew I had to give them Roadbuster’s Arial voice. I also knew that I’d have to keep the Autobots’ Times New Roman voice for the most part. The only question, then, was what to do about Grimlock, the combiners, Jetfire, and the narration.

(It’s worth noting that Soundwave and Triton were both Decepticons too, yet they both spoke in Times New Roman. The Doylist reason for this is simply that, at the time, I was happy to have everyone share a voice. In Triton’s case, the Watsonian reason is that he’s trying to mimic the Autobots’ “accent” to better fit in. If I had to make up a reason for Soundwave, I’d say that he’s only recently defected from the Autobots, as a reference to van Feleday’s insane Soundwave-as-an-ex-prisoner-of-war theory. Had Soundwave had a speaking role in the comic, I’m sure I would’ve explored that backstory in his AtoZ profile - but alas, it wasn’t to be.)

In fact, there was initially some ambiguity over who the comic’s narrator would be - if I used Times New Roman, would I have to keep the voice of the same narrator as in the previous two comics? In the end, I decided to draw from my source material: the on-panel narration would be Grimlock’s inner monologue, rendered in full Comic Sans glory, while the "Interlude” would employ a more omniscient third-person voice. That third-person voice is, I think, distinct from the narrator of the previous comics, and feels like a more solemn version of the narrator of the AtoZ profiles I released alongside the commentary for “PASS” (or, indeed, the latest batch included here). Remember, I wrote the first two comics years before all of this recent material. More on the text-only pages later.

When he speaks out loud, Grimlock uses the regular Times New Roman of the other Autobots. In fact, the only dialogue which uses Comic Sans is that of the Beast, which I view as the true externalisation of Grimlock’s feelings. You can also view it as the “real world” (as depicted in the text-only pages) leaking through into the comic’s reality, in much the same way that an aware-of-death adult perspective seeps through into a seemingly-innocent children’s cartoon. The other combiners simply use a slightly bigger font than the individual Decepticons. Oh, and all of the combiners use red text.

In the original toyline, Jetfire was something of an odd-one-out, as he was really a Macross “VF-1S Super Valkyrie” toy licensed by Hasbro from Bandai (who had in turn purchased the molds from the recently-bankrupted Takatoku toys). Both Whirl and Roadbuster have similar origins. I was under no obligation to do anything special with Jetfire’s dialogue, but because of the way he’s introduced in the comic - and as a nod to his shared real-world history with Roadbuster - it felt right to give him his own voice. Though he still uses Times New Roman, the font is scaled up and he speaks entirely in capital letters. His dialogue was a challenge to write, as most of his speech bubbles are very small, but I think this worked out in my favour: his speech often ended up butting up against the bubbles’ outlines, giving the impression that he’s always speaking just a little bit too loudly.

The lettering in the first part of the original comic - aside from being technically legible - is generally shoddy on every level. For emphasis, it alternately uses italics or inconsistent font size. Occasionally, the dialogue switches to lowercase, which kinda gives the impression that everyone’s been shouting the whole time. Most of the text is left-aligned. Some bits of text seem to have been squashed. Most of the narration boxes are parallelograms, but some are plain rectangles. Red hand-lettered text is mostly limited to the combiners’ speech, but also sees use a couple of times for Megatron and Optimus Prime. Some of the combiners’ speech just uses normal red Comic Sans MS text. Meanwhile, the second part switches entirely to black hand-lettered text - presumably from Mr. Gibson - which is a marked improvement in terms of tone and consistency, if a step down in legibility.

It’s interesting to me that, despite my version of the comic sharing the dearth of commas and full stops which plagues the original, it reads very differently. For all its stylisation, it’s my hope that each line I write for these comics comes across realistically - not in the sense that it’s something you’d hear someone say, but perhaps in the sense that it’s something you’d maybe read on the internet. More on that later - first, some miscellaneous notes on the comic’s text:

When I first wrote it, I used the style of self-censorship from “PASS” (and, by extension, the rest of Summer Meme Sundae) wherein the first letter of any curse is replaced by an asterisk. It was one of my prereaders, Tindalos, who noted that “the censoring kinda takes a bit from it”, and I decided that I agreed with him - it felt like I was holding back. You can decide for yourself; I’ve collected the pages with lines that were revised between drafts in an album.

Through pure coincidence, it’s Springer (well, Bulkhead) who gets the first line of dialogue in the comic - just like in “PASS”. In case it’s not clear, the joke is that he thinks he’s safe on the floor and berates Jazz for not doing the same thing, seconds before getting stomped by Megatron. I think this sequence perfectly encapsulates a big part of what I wanted to show about the Autobots: they all criticise one another relentlessly, despite being deeply flawed themselves. It’s a dynamic that, to me at least, actually evokes that of the Autobots in Michael Bay’s movies.

The line “thats me grimlock in the corner losing my religion” is, of course, a reference to R.E.M.’s song “Losing My Religion”, which was itself included as part of writer James Roberts’ “soundtrack” for More Than Meets The Eye. Though he did not appear in the issue for which Roberts selected the song, Grimlock was a recurring character in that series. Hopefully my depiction of the character surpasses that one - though if you ask the people I usually talk to, I wouldn’t be setting the bar particularly high with that comparison.

Optimus uses the insult “grimdick” shortly after Grimlock’s narration provides the example “grimcock”. I intended this to show that, while the dynamic between the two’s been cemented for a good while, Grimlock is always a step behind and still can’t predict Prime’s actions.

Snarl’s line was originally “hey speak for yourself swoop me and grimlock are tight as *hit”, which expresses effectively the opposite sentiment to his final line. The idea that Snarl was okay with becoming part of the Beast was intended to add a bit of brevity to the sequence - but I decided it was better to keep as much emotional impact as possible in the moment.

A more minor change a couple of pages later is Grimlock’s line “how do they do it”, which replaced “love is stupid”. I wanted to expressly draw a parallel between the Beast’s combination and Predaking’s.

The line I’m happiest with is “eat shit megatron this is what you get for being such a fucking weapon”. One of my friends occasionally cracks out the word “weapon” to describe someone - and what better application for it is there than a guy who literally turns into a gun?

Megatron’s line about the “black hole” in Optimus Prime’s spark is a twist on Megatron’s own canonical link to a black hole - an aspect of his original bio which was revisited by Roberts.

I struggled to think of Menasor’s final words. The longer I stared at the panel where he gets torn in half - from which I’d already cleared the speech bubble - the more I was struck by the emptiness of the scene. If one considers Menasor to be a symbol for the Decepticons as a whole, then his silence in that panel is my way of showing that - from this point forth - the Decepticons no longer have a voice; the second part of the comic shows naught but their corpses. Death exists, and nothing is good any more.

None of the text on the final page of the first half remained unchanged between drafts. I wan’t happy with Optimus Prime’s original line at all, and the internal monologue “don’t you deserve happiness” felt a little too serious. The phrase “no u” is the archetypical low-effort comeback, and seemed like the perfect beat to end the first part with.

Prime’s line “gotta jettison some dead weight” is a nod to Astrotrain’s iconic line in The Transformers: The Movie: “Jettison some weight, or I’ll never make it to Cybertron.” I had to check for the exact quote just now and found “jettison transformers the movie” in my search history, so obviously I’d done the same when writing the panel. More than just being a trite reference, I was hoping to draw an obvious parallel and to contrast the unilateral decision Optimus Prime makes on the following page against the more shall-we-call-it-democratic process the Decepticons used in the movie.

I’m probably a little too proud of “big red irredeemable fucking monster of a robot semi fuck”, which is a line that could absolutely only exist in this travesty of a comic.

Jetfire’s use of the phrase “GOTTA BLAST” is a reference to a line spoken by the titular character of the early-2000s CGI cartoon Jimmy Neutron: Boy Genius, one which has turned into something of a meme. When I wrote the panel, I intended to imply that Jetfire was aiming to crash into the city - but I think it ended up doubling as foreshadowing for the fact that Jetfire flies his passengers into the sun. Additionally, the meme often sees use as innuendo, which shines through in the following panel: Jetfire expels propellant into the Beast’s face while Bumblebee remarks “gah okay i did not want to see that”. The less said about the sound effect “CHOOOM!”, the better.

Remember how all the text in the first part of the original comic was left-aligned? So’s the text in my version! MS Paint simply doesn’t have the option to change the alignment of your text - I actually had to throw in extra spaces at the start of each new line, eyeballing things until I had an approximation of centre alignment. This is something I never did with “PASS”, and I found that doing so gave me more freedom to squeeze more stuff into the speech bubbles.

As immortalised by countless memes, you can’t rotate text in MS Paint either. I tried to use this to my advantage on the comic’s first page, where the steps between the words in Grimlock’s narration give them a faltering quality.

Grimlock’s narration actually ended up being one of the most challenging parts of the comic to write. I wrote a draft of the first page pretty quickly, but decided I wasn’t happy with it and that I’d have to replace it later - which I did, but only after having written pretty much every single other bit of dialogue.

I think the central conceit of “PASS” - that somebody’s farted and the Autobots are trying to find out who dealt it - didn’t solidify until I reached the second page and looked at Rodimus Prime’s body language. In much the same way, the crux of “The Beast Within (My Pants)” didn’t solidify until it came to writing Swoop’s line.

V. Me Grimlock Not Nice Dino

At some point during the creation of “The Beast Within (My Pants)”, I started thinking a lot about incels.

(To be clear, this is the part of the commentary where things get a bit weird, and I start talking about storytelling decisions which I think were made in poor taste but which I don’t think come across overtly in the comic itself. Feel free to skip ahead to the next section. Or, y’know, stop reading entirely.)

Grimlock is childish, despite his age, and is desperate to be liked - no, respected - at any cost. His only asset is his BRUTE STRENGTH. He hates Prime, but wishes he was Prime. He has trouble treating any of the other Autobots like people. He rages against an outgroup whose ideals are - at least ostensibly - rooted in empathy.

I wouldn’t say “I wrote a comic where Grimlock is an incel”, because that’d be a pretty stupid thing to write and I’d feel pretty stupid saying it.

Looking back at a lot of my previous work on this blog, some things do crop up again and again. In abstract, I’d say that the idea of a character seeking friendship and/or respect - and failing to understand why they can’t find those things - is one that I’ve revisited a couple of times. This was a strong theme in the latter half of Another Son - a story which dealt heavily in misanthropy - which featured a character inspired by Sam Witwicky from Michael Bay’s Transformers. The protagonist of Retrace Steps spent the whole story unable to even ask the question “why am I alone”. Many of the characters in Are You Happy - particularly Mr. Hernandez - deal with similar problems to varying extents.

So this makes, what, practically four stories in a row? I didn’t set out to approach things this way again with this comic, but from the moment I wrote Swoop’s line I knew I didn’t have a choice. When people talk about the Beast’s combination sequence, they talk about how violative it appears. Metal tentacles spring from Grimlock like one of Alien’s chestbursters, penetrating or melding with the other Dinobots’ bodies. After that, the resulting monstrosity ambles around, horrifically murdering its former peers. As much as I can have the characters in the story play this stuff off for laughs, I’ll never be able to erase the undercurrent.

This isn’t supposed to be a direct mapping - a perfect metaphor - and by the time this commentary’s done I hope I’ll have pointed in the direction of some alternate perspectives. It just seems important to put my cards on the table and say that, when I was working on this comic, this is the kinda thing I was thinking about. We thought children were safe with Transformers, and then a gun came and shot people they cared about, and for some reason we were surprised to see that they got upset.

With all of that in mind, I take some solace in the fact that I actually found getting into Grimlock’s head to be extremely difficult. His dialogue was a breeze to write, sure - that’s the outsider’s perspective - but actually trying to construct his thoughts in anything approximating a convincing manner was very difficult. The first draft of his narration literally included the phrase “we live in a society”.

VI. Such Heroic Nonsense

I’ve already touched on Terry van Feleday’s opus a couple of times, but I think it’s worth delving a little deeper into how exactly her analysis influenced this comic. For some reason the idea that nearly five-hundred pages of borderline-conspiracy-theorist-level ramblings about perhaps the most maligned movie franchise of the 21st century might be a tough sell is one which I can’t quite wrap my head around. I’d say that it’s because I’ve read the thing and already know that it’s good, but in truth I was pretty much sold from the moment I found out it existed.

Anyway, I frequently get into not-quite-arguments with internet strangers about Transformers, and during those discussions I frequently find myself saying “a good Transformers story should do X”, and then I have to resist the urge to add “like Michael Bay’s movies” because doing so would completely delegitimise the point I’m trying to make. The problem is that, because I’m deliberately omitting the context of my opinions, they come across as being even more bizarre.

I think that same problem exists in some capacity with this comic, where I’m drawing on sources which are intuitive to me but completely alien even to a typical Transformers fan. I’ve yet to even mention the other primary inspiration for this story, which is even more arcane.

Perhaps it’s important to stress that van Feleday doesn’t offer a typical "theres actually zero difference between good & bad things. you imbecile. you fucking moron" take. Rather - and I realise I’m about to butcher this - she shows how the humans in Bay’s movies give increasing amounts of power to an alien cult leader because their only alternative is to get wiped out by an alien warlord. So in terms of this comic, “Autobots bad” is very much rooted in her reading of those movies, while “Decepticons good” is just something I thought would be funny.

Well, not exactly. I’ve already mentioned Combiner Wars; something that continues to baffle pretty much everyone who watched that show (and its sequels) is that, while it seems to have no idea what it’s doing most of the time, its portrayal of Megatron is an absolute riot. He is absolutely the protagonist of that series, the Only Sane Man in a world of bizarre psychotic caricatures. I think the same kinda holds in the continuity of my comic, only he’s had more time to bring the people he takes in around to his way of thinking.

Let’s not forget the official “good-is-bad” continuity of Shattered Glass, which - while heavily compromised - was the source of many interesting reinterpretations of popular characters. Effective reinterpretations require you to forget what you know about a character and strip them back to the core signifiers, which you can then put to different use. One of the posters in Terry van Feleday’s thread, “Lobok”, observes:

I like the idea that Bay or the writers looked at Optimus Prime and thought "What would a guy who calls himself that really act like?" Imagine you knew or heard of someone, a human, who called themselves the equivalent of "The #1 Bestest Superior" or "King Supreme Ultimate" - do you not picture either a 7-year old boy or a mentally deficient oo-rah alpha male? Maybe the two combined? Seems much more apt than a wise, noble father figure.

Of the course, I don’t for a second think that Michael Bay had any such thought - but the connection still exists for the audience to make. Therein lies one of the greatest unspoken strengths of Transformers storytelling: the sheer breadth and depth of the signifiers at play. Much of what van Feleday did in her thread was to boil down the concepts found in Transformers stories to reveal those core signifiers.

(Almost a year ago, I wrote a piece for the Refined Robot Co. blog which explored some of her findings by delving into the subtextual meanings of the countless alternate modes worn by Megatron over the years.)

By the same token, I think there’s something to be said for the way Grimlock’s alternate mode ties into his portrayal in my take on The Beast Within. He turns into a dinosaur - something which is rooted in the past, extinct, unable to develop - while most of the other Autobots turn into modern vehicles. Kids may love dinosaurs, but they’ll likely grow up to have a stronger interest in cars or tanks. Grimlock is immature almost to the point of childishness; his beast mode is the lizard king, and he doesn’t understand why you won’t bow.

(Obviously I’m making some big generalisations here for the sake of a point - the other Dinobots have their own prehistoric disguises, and kids’ interests develop in varied enough ways that perhaps this link is only noticeable to those who experienced the transition I describe. When I was much younger, I was obsessed with dinosaurs, and would consume all the dinosaur-related media I could get my hands on. Eventually, however, my crippling fear of sea monsters led me to stop reading books about them - I'd turn the page, see a full-spread painting of a pliosaur taking a bite out of a pterodactyl, and shit my pants. Okay, no, that’s a huge exaggeration: more likely it just got to the point where I knew basically all of the cool dinosaur facts already, and suddenly the deep lore of the grim darkness of the 41st millennium or whatever seemed way cooler. I just find it funnier to imagine that my prosperous future in paleontology was averted for fear that I’d discover the last living specimen of a plesiosaur.)

VII. Where’d You Learn To Talk Like That

Back in “PASS”, I think there was some question as to who exactly was the coolest dude; the biggest guy. Rodimus was in charge, but the others didn’t really respect his authority in the end. Although Triton was an underdog in that story, he wasn’t at the bottom of the pack - no, that role went to Roadbuster. Everyone seems to like Ultra Magnus, but it’s never really made clear as to why that is.

Grimlock’s personality and role within the Autobots was pretty much the first thing I solidified when it came to writing “The Beast Within (My Pants)”. I knew that he was the lowest of the low; the nail in every Autobot’s tyre. As Grimlock evolved, so too did Optimus Prime - the second-most-prominent character in the comic. "The #1 Bestest Superior" became a murderous jock, and the Autobots became his cult of personality.

Speaking of cults of personality, I’ve been posting regularly in the Homestuck Discord server since November of last year. There’s no other place like it on the internet, and - truth be told - I’m not sure any explanation of it I could provide would suffice. The server was created by some guy called Makin - at least, we're pretty sure he’s a guy - who nobody’s ever met but who seems to have an uncanny knack for managing online communities.

Major events in that server have been comprehensively catalogued since July of 2017 by long-standing moderator “Drew Linky” in his journal Several People Are Typing. Between the entries and the related materials, it’s probably around half a million words in length. There’s no other document like it on the internet.

For the first fifty or so pages, Drew had no intention of making his document public. Apparently, one of the reasons he wrote it in the first place was as a way of holding Makin accountable - the guy used to be (and sometimes still is) a bit of an ass. Now, I wasn’t around in 2017, so I can’t really comment on the accuracy of the document’s early entries - but as a newcomer I was struck by how different Drew’s depiction of the server was to my own experience there. If I had to guess, I’d say his style of prose and the cherry-picked nature of the document make it seem like a much more hostile place than it actually is.

In particular, Makin effectively starts out as journal’s main villain (alongside various problem users and Homestuck creators) - a capricious and unknowable entity with absolute power over the server - and many of the entries deal in some way with what users jokingly refer to as his “redemption arc”. Of course, in reality, he’s just some guy, and everyone knows that real people don’t have character arcs.

I still haven’t finished reading SPAT, but I was doing so around the time when I was working on the comic. At some point I started to draw parallels between my bizarro version of Optimus Prime and the journal’s bizarro version of Makin, and I decided to play them up. Much of Prime’s dialogue is inspired by Makin’s style of speech, using phrases like “shut the fuck up”, “nobody cares”, “holy shit”, “get fucked”, “lmao”, “literally”, “literally [...] who”, “guys”, “rational” and “you’re welcome”. I just checked and at the time of writing, with the exception of “literally who” and “you’re welcome”, he’s used every one of those phrases within the last week. Oh, and while the word “suckers” isn’t really a Makin quote, in Homestuck it’s associated with the not-quite-biggest-bad evil empress. It bears mentioning again that the complete lack of punctuation in the comic’s dialogue mirrors the most common style of typing I see online, where people drop their capital letters and full stops.

(In fairness, a lot of us kinda talk the same way in that server. I remember one time Makin said “I also need to worry about lmao becoming some kind of anime catchphrase for me”, which cut pretty deep as I’ve been overusing that phrase instead of “lol” or “haha” or whatever for ages. Look, it’s just a funny word to me: in my head I pronounce it “luh-mayo” instead of “el-em-ay-oh”. Like “I throw my sandwich in the air sometimes / saying aaay-oh / I ordered maaayo...”)

In the comic, the self-aggrandising Optimus Prime is hostile and dismissive to those around him. It might all be a front, but it might not. Even though Grimlock hates Optimus, the Dinobot seems to agree with him a lot of the time, and the narrative itself never really manages to conclusively condemn his actions. The name “Optimus” echoes the word “optimise”; so frequently thrown around in rationalist circles. One could even go so far as to say that Optimus Prime’s ultimate goal in the comic is to kill death-in-the-form-of-a-shitposter.

In seriousness, I’m drawing these comparisons in a pretty tongue-in-cheek way. I don’t actually think that the Homestuck Discord server is a cult of personality - even if, to check the user-contributed “SPAT Epilogues”, some of its populace seem determined to behave like it is. Even if this section of this commentary exists. At the end of the day, I’m gonna write what I know, and I like to think that I know a little about online communities and what happens when they go wrong. I wish I could say that “The Beast Within (My Pants)” is a cautionary tale to that effect, but in truth I don’t think it offers any conclusive answers in the same way that “PASS” perhaps did. “Only worry about the opinions of people who actually care about you,” maybe? “Death is an abomination and we shouldn’t let it anywhere near our kids”, perhaps? “You can’t force other people to like you”?

“You can’t force other people to like the things you made”?

VIII. Burnt-Out Toaster Ovens

In the re-released version of “PASS”, it seemed right to throw in something in the way of extra content. I had fond memories of the Seacon profiles published alongside the original “Peace”, and lifted the format to create short bios for all sixteen characters who appeared in the comic. These fitted neatly on a four-by-four spread (though I ended up merging Topspin and Twin Twist’s profiles and throwing in an extra one for Computron, who did not appear in the comic proper).

From the start, I knew I wanted to do something similar for “The Beast Within (My Pants)”. In fact, I already had two text-only pages to work with; each part of the original comic was prefaced with a prose introduction and a note from Mr. Gibson. I decided that I could rework the text-only pages and add another spread of profiles, using the freedom granted by prose to explain away many of the comic’s oddities.

It took me some time to carefully erase the existing text from the scans that I had, using nothing but the brush tool in MS Paint. It took me even more time to work out some potential approaches to take with the text itself. Eventually, I came up with the following ideas:

A flashback depicting Grimlock and Swoop’s breakup.

A conversation between Grimlock and Jazz (or, perhaps, Slash).

“How Ratchet Got His Head Back”, the interlude which I ended up using.

A synopsis of events between “its christmas... so what??” and “The Beast Within (My Pants)”, which ended up being my first stab at the introduction.

Some in-character commentary as Mr. Gibson, which I did end up including.

From the moment I conceived it, I was pretty set on “How Ratchet Got His Head Back”, and it ended up being a breeze to write. I didn’t end up getting a chance to squeeze in the title - a reference to an issue of More than Meets the Eye - as it didn’t really fit the original format of the page. The introduction, on the other hand, proved much more challenging. My main problem was that, were I to preface the story with a text page, I’d be asking them to read a bunch of probably-mostly-serious words before allowing them to read the comic proper. Not the best first impression!

Nonetheless, I gave it a go - you can read my first attempt in the album of the draft pages. It mostly served to lay out the continuity between my three comics. Rodimus Prime’s crew were abandoned on Cybertron by Optimus Prime (presumably Hot Rod changed his name in Optimus’ absence). Megatron, Optimus and their crews crash-landed on Earth, and millions of years later the events of “its christmas... so what??” occurred. Meanwhile on Cybertron, it took a few million years for the other Autobots to wipe out the remaining Decepticons, as seen in “PASS”. Humanity was wiped out by Optimus in retribution for their transgression (a nod to Mr. Gibson’s depiction of Earth as an empty wasteland), prompting the conflict seen in “The Beast Within (My Pants)”. Much of this timeline remains implicit in the final version of the comic.

When I wrote it, I was pretty happy with the way this information was conveyed in the first draft. It was the ever-ardent Gitaxian - one of my long-time prereaders - who made me realise just what a mistake I’d made:

Something was rubbing me the wrong way about that first prose page and I finally realized what it is / Expositing that Optimus is horrible right off the bat takes away a good chunk of the impact the comic had before you added it

He was right. My prereaders’ initial response to the comic was that Optimus Prime’s motivations were completely opaque, and I overcorrected, not realising that his inscrutability was one of the things that made him interesting. You kinda want him to behave like the Optimus Prime you know and love, but he keeps doing weird things and you never really find out why.

Suddenly, I was back at square one - no closer to having a clear idea of how to introduce the comic. Another of my prereaders, gearshift, had the solution:

It's Transformers or some shit. You've seen the cartoon right? The one with the tape guy? Yeah, the tape guy is barely in this one. What do you mean no sale? Look, fuck, it's got the dinosaur guy. He's right on the goddamn cover, you like the dinosaur guy right? Yeah, that's what I thought.

Bitch.

I liked her pitch because it seemed like it’d do a good job of filtering out readers who wouldn’t enjoy the comic. To quote Alexander Wales, author of Worth the Candle:

I kind of hate blurbs and taglines, especially for something so large and varied as Worth the Candle / My ideal synopsis would tell people what kind of story it was without actually telling them that much about the story; it would select for all the people who would fall in love with the story, and select against all the people who would find it a waste of time. / How to actually write that ... I've got no idea.

(Side note: I’m one of the people who fell in love with that story, to the point where I’ll use any opportunity to recommend it to others. It’s maybe my favourite thing written by anyone ever.)

A closely-related issue is that of content warnings: so far as I’ve been able to work out, there is no warning which I can give for “The Beast Within (My Pants)” which adequately selects against people who won’t like it while also preserving its conceptual twists and avoiding colouring the audience’s interpretation.

Getting back to the actual content of the introduction - I wound up writing less than I would’ve liked, leaving the page looking a little sparse, but hopefully making things easier for the reader. There’s relatively little to talk about in the way of trivia here. When I wrote the phrase “cut right to the spectacles” I was probably thinking of Carly Rae Jepsen’s “Cut To The Feeling”. When I mentioned “moist towelettes” I was probably thinking of Hawthorne Wipes. The phrase “truth time” was an iconic - to me, and literally no-one else in existence - line spoken by the trolling narrator of a crack story written by a high school friend of mine, the energy of which I feel like I’ve always been channelling with these comics.

The interlude, on the other hand, is crammed full of references and was a breeze to write. It was the first piece of prose I completed for the project. In general, I was trying to write in a verbose style that would be simultaneously at odds with the bulk of the issue and reminiscent of the prose of veteran Transformers scribe Simon Furman. He was known for using certain distinctive phrases repeatedly in his writing - one such phrase being “like some vast, predatory bird”. The phrase “neither sufficient inclination nor wingspan” is supposed to subtly evoke another Furmanism: “CANNOT, WILL NOT”.

In all likelihood, the interlude would not have existed had I not noticed that Ratchet’s head was in its cartoon colours in the first part of the story, but in its Marvel colours for the second. I had the idea to explain that error away in story - tying into the general schtick of “correcting” the comic - and did so by way of a reference to Ratchet’s original toy, which had a sticker with a face on it behind the windshield rather than a proper head. I was also determined to highlight the fact that Predaking’s legs remain standing for like three pages; I think this minor detail in the artwork is pretty indicative of the fact that Mr. Gibson did a good job.

The way Swoop’s contribution to the combiner is described as “puny” ties nicely to the history established between him and Grimlock in his profile. I like the way the Beast tries to hit Optimus Prime with a “truck-sized fist”. The “antimemetic shielding” was my attempt to explain the recurring disappearances of Optimus Prime’s trailer in a novel way - I did so by namedropping the key phrase from qntm’s There Is No Antimemetics Division; the trailer’s there, you just can’t perceive it and forget that it exists. Finally, “dull surprise” refers to the vague expressions that characterised Dreamwave’s house style.

For the most part, I was able to retain the ordering of the pages as in the original comic, to keep things print-friendly. The one exception to this is the prose page for the second part, which I unfortunately had to move forward so that its cover could fall across a spread. The original comics must’ve included something in the way of backmatter - art cards, perhaps, or adverts - which made up the space.

The huge cast of The Beast Within made creating a profile for every character an impossible task (especially when so many are just crowd-fillers like some of the Technobots were in “PASS”) - but it was perfectly possible to provide one for each non-combiner character with a speaking role.

(If you’ll indulge me in one last barely-relevant tangent as we head into the final stretch of this commentary, there are some rather odd inclusions/omissions in The Beast Within. On the Autobot side, pretty much every 1984-1985 character appears, with the exceptions of Trailbreaker, Hoist, Tracks, Smokescreen, Grapple, Beachcomber, Seaspray, Perceptor and Omega Supreme. The Autobot combiner teams are absent with the odd exception of Silverbolt. Twin Twist - who had been pretty much entirely absent from the original US fiction - makes an odd appearance without his partner Topspin. Steeljaw is the only one of the four 1986 Autobot cassettes to appear. Meanwhile, on the Decepticon side, oddities include the toy-inspired versions of Viewfinder and Spectro (most of the rest of the cast use cartoon-inspired character models) and the omissions of Spyglass and Buzzsaw. Some Decepticon combiner team members - Motormaster, Wildrider, Breakdown, Blast Off and Swindle - only appear in combined form. Just two of the four 1986 triple changers - Springer and Octane - appear in the comic, looking slightly out-of-place in a cast consisting mostly of characters present in the first two seasons of the cartoon. Oh, and the Deluxe Vehicles and Deluxe Insecticons are absent, but that’s to be expected in a cartoon-inspired setting.)

Here’s the first draft of Optimus Prime’s profile:

Unpredictable. Unstoppable. Unrepentant. Many words have been used to describe OPTIMUS PRIME, yet the abrasive leader of the Autobots remains something of an enigma even amongst his followers. He has ruled Cybertron for many millenia, by dint of the fact that he's apparently the only Cybertronian with a shred of competence.

It’s a product of the time where I wanted to really flesh out Optimus Prime and communicate his thoughts clearly to the audience, and as such is pretty blunt with how it characterises him. The final version is a little more subtle, drawing in elements of the scrapped introduction. I figure I may as well go through the other profiles one-by-one to give a sense for what I was thinking:

Megatron initially had a much more personal bio - which seems to have been lost to time - but I wound up cutting much of it to make space for elements of the story’s scrapped introduction.

Starscream draws inspiration from van Feleday’s interpretation of the character - she posited that Michael Bay’s version of the character was actually the Decepticon most loyal to Megatron. The contrast between that interpretation and pretty much every other in the franchise’s history (excluding Shattered Glass Starscream, of course) is pretty funny to me. I tried to use the phrase “fools errands” in as benign a way as possible, which I felt evoked a more traditional relationship between him and Megatron. “Starscream, you fool!”

Razorclaw has little in the way of characterisation in the comic beyond “noble warrior”, and his profile is a wholesale reference to The Chronicles of Narnia: he stands in for Aslan; the rest of the Predacons for the Pevensie siblings. So yes, this version of Razorclaw is a Christ-like figure. As for the witch... maybe Blackarachnia? Eh, who cares. Oh, and the idea of combining with a dead bot was one which cropped up a few times in IDW’s comics, most notably with the Combaticons in Mairghread Scott’s Till All Are One.

Onslaught was in a similar boat to Razorclaw. I found myself drawing from Till All Are One once more, hinting at a (complicated?) romance between him and another teammate.

Blitzwing has only one speaking role in the comic - a shared line with Megatron and Starscream - but I decided to count it for the sake of having a nice set of sixteen characters once more. In Transformers Animated, Blitzwing had multiple personalities, and would change forms depending on which was in control. This interpretation of the character has seen plenty of criticism, so I deliberately tried to come up with something new. I quickly settled upon the idea of tying his vehicle forms to his mood, a metaphor which seemed to dovetail nicely with the way aerial alternate forms were treated in “PASS” and which also allowed me to cement the Decepticons’ supportiveness.

Bulkhead was borne of the realisation that Springer appears prominently in both “Peace” and The Beast Within. This inconsistency is entirely the product of my decision to place my versions of those comics in the same continuity, and I decided to correct it in the tradition of “Bluster” and “Firster Aid” by having them be two separate (but related) characters. I named the new Springer after Energon Bulkhead, who was inspired by “Generation 1″ Springer - the name’s since been used more prominently by an Animated-original character and variations thereof, and is effectively fair game for “Generation 1″ stories. His actual characterisation was inspired by Springer’s behaviour in “PASS” - I liked the idea that Bulkhead bullied Springer, and Springer bullied everyone else in turn. Oh, and I wanted to tie their helicopter modes back to Blitzwing’s profile on a thematic level.

Bumblebee is the only character from “its christmas... so what??” to recur with a speaking role in “The Beast Within (My Pants)”. After scrapping the original introduction I’d planned for the comic, I was left with a single profile to bridge the gap between the two stories. My original idea was that, for their negligence in allowing the humans to steal Bumblebee’s blood, Prowl, Tracks, and Hoist would have been executed by Optimus Prime - though I’m sure he didn’t pull the trigger himself, it’s safe to assume that he didn’t warn them before setting off the nukes.

Ratchet has a characterisation inspired by something “Jonny Angel” posted in van Feleday’s thread: “Ratchet is an ambulance who practices no medicine”.

Jazz is an extremely prominent character in the comic, despite the fact that his only line is a scream in the opening panel. The comic relies on the wider context of the brand to let the audience be invested in him, but in a vacuum it’s kinda funny to see the Autobots fret so much over an effective nobody. Pretty much the entire joke in my version is just a reference to Ryan Gosling’s misguided quest to “save jazz” in La La Land - some of his character’s lines are lifted wholesale to comprise Jazz’s profile, which takes pains to avoid using any kind of pronouns (thereby maintaining the confusion over whether or not “Jazz” refers to the character or the music genre). His profile was the first I wrote.

Ironhide has a role amongst the Autobots loosely inspired by that of Drew Linky (or at least, the version of Drew Linky presented by SPAT) in the Homestuck Discord. I thought there was some symmetry there with Ironhide’s history in IDW Publishing’s comics.

Skids was a tricky character to portray, but ultimately his profile turned out to be one of the ones I’m happiest with. It’s kind of a loose riff on his portrayal towards the back end of James Roberts’ stories, where much of his arc revolved around his relationship with Nautica. According to Word of God, he had unrequited feelings for her - I decided to amp this up by giving him unrequited feelings for everyone. To tie this back to Homestuck, think Eridan/Cronus. Oh, and in terms of the Homestuck Discord server, think your typical hornyposter (and then follow the implications through in terms of Optimus Prime/Makin). The actual name “Skids Maximus” is a play on the way the suffix “Maximus” has historically been used for some combiners, “Optimus Maximus” in particular. I’m convinced I’m not the first person to do a joke like that, but nobody I asked could think of any older examples.

Grimlock was fleshed out pretty well by the comic itself, so I took his profile as an opportunity to expand upon the history of the Dinobots. I saw them as being akin to a group of friends who stuck together throughout school, winding up as an impenetrably toxic and incestuous mess with a ton of deep lore. In a way, there was a time when I was the Grimlock of my group of friends... but we all grew up.

Swoop is Grimlock’s ex-partner, a concept inspired by the other Dinobot combiner we all wish we could forget about. I’m pretty happy with the use of the word “bottom” in this context.

Snarl is based on a combination of various people I’ve known in real life - people who are perfectly nice and reasonable but have zero patience around certain other individuals. From the outside, it’s behaviour that comes across as pretty damn harsh, but - and please note that this is not an endorsement of such behaviour - it’s usually the product of a long period of aggravations.

Jetfire was the last character introduced in the comic, so it felt fitting to save his profile until last. His biography is effectively a mashup of his portrayals in the original cartoon (where he gets frozen in the Arctic Circle) and in Revenge of the Fallen (where he was a Seeker who wound up on Earth), a combination which neatly parallels Bay’s Megatron’s origins. It also references J.J. Abram’s infamous “mystery box” storytelling device, which I intended to mirror the offbeat lack of closure in the comic itself.

The final challenge I faced - one which had hounded me throughout the development of the comic - was what exactly to title it. Titles considered included:

“The BEE” (Tindalos’ suggestion)

“The BEE Within”

“The REEEE Within”

“SHIT” (Gitaxian’s suggestion)

“IM THE BEAST”

“AWWW SHIT” (Fear or Courage’s suggestion)

“AW SHIT ITS THE BEAST”

None of these resonated. Then, almost a whole month later, out of nowhere:

This was the entirety of Daniel111111222222’s contribution to the story - and what a contribution it was.

There were several reasons why I loved his idea. Firstly, it was easy to edit: most of the other suggestions would’ve required me to move lots of letters around, while this one would simply require me to append a few. More importantly, it felt like the title of a Chuck Tingle novel.

The subtitle for the second part - “No Pants” - seemed like a natural choice after that, the idea being that it evokes Grimlock’s inhibitions falling away with his transformation into the Beast. It narrowly edged out “Pants Off”, which I managed to squeeze into the final version of the introduction.

The parentheses in the comic’s title were my own addition, and in retrospect I kinda regret them. They seemed like a good idea at the time, but I’m not sure why. I was wrong to try and improve upon perfection.

IX. Why Throw Away Your Life So Recklessly

So far, the bulk of this commentary has mostly focused on the aspects of this project which I think went pretty well. In a way, that's probably fair enough, because - on balance - I'm pretty happy with how it turned out.

At the same time, I can't help feeling that “PASS” - a comic which I probably threw together in the space of one day two years ago - is both funnier and more meaningful than the one which I spent a couple of weeks on.

When I started working on “The Beast Within (My Pants)” towards the beginning of May, I expected to have the project finished and out of the door by the end of the month. If you glance at the release dates of the various things I made, you'll see that I like to put out major projects on the last day of a month - it's a way of setting myself a deadline and it lets me associate a given project with a given period of time.

My first draft of the dialogue was released to prereaders on the 11th of May; my second on the 13th. Around that point, exam season started to kick in and I decided to prioritise to other projects - the Retrace Steps commentary and the Are You Happy retrospective - which both ballooned out into much longer pieces than I'd planned. I successfully met my self-imposed deadline for those projects and pushed back the release date for the comic to the end of June. I released the first drafts of the text-only pages on the 9th, but the profiles didn't follow until the 24th. By the time you read this, I'll have been working on the project on-and-off for over three months; despite the fact that I was ostensibly on vacation for most of that time, I was somehow busier than I tend to be at university.

For context, it took me just four months to adapt Retrace Steps from a short film script to a webcomic (well, “webcomic”), and that was a process which actually required original artwork. At the time I noted that I needed to re-evaluate the way I approached commentaries, as the amount of time required to produce one of a high standard seemed only to increase - they're extremely valuable to me, and seem to be well-received by the few who read them, but are they justifiable if they take longer to create than the things they comment on?

All of this is my long-winded way of saying that I've probably spent more time thinking about The Beast Within than the vast majority of people who know about it, and that I kinda regret that. See, in the sense that The Beast Within provokes a visceral emotional reaction, it’s a “good comic” - but so too does a punch to the face. The Beast Within is not a good comic. It’s mean and deconstructive and poorly-done. My version is borne of contrarianism and hubris, and softens the blow not one bit.

At the time when I was writing Grimlock's dialogue, I found that my own typing style was becoming increasingly acidic.

The truth is that “PASS” is probably the most successful thing I have ever made, and I wanted to make a comic which would put it to shame, and I failed miserably. In fact, I feel like I’ve made something which only I could ever enjoy. It’s derivative in the extreme. As my deadline for this project drew closer, I resorted to drafting bits of the commentary on my phone in public, and at one point somebody idly asked me what I was writing, and - after failing to think of a convincing lie - I said something along the lines of “it’s kinda a long story, and I wouldn’t enjoy telling it, and you wouldn’t enjoy hearing about it”. They seemed perfectly satisfied by that answer, but I wasn’t.

Must we justify the things we create? Mr. Jamieson’s attitude seemed to be to say “screw you, I don’t have to justify myself to stupid people” (while pointing at everybody else in the room). My attitude, as evinced by this commentary, has been to justify every aspect of everything I make in excruciating detail, so that if you tell me “I don’t like X” I can say “I already explained why I thought X was a good idea” and you can say “well you were wrong” and I can say “maybe”.

You’ve probably twigged that, throughout this commentary, I’ve referred to the creators of The Beast Within only by second name. At first, perhaps, it came across as some mark of mocking respect - like citing a scientific source - but the real reason is cowardice, not confidence. Some people occasionally put their own names into Google. There’s a couple of people to whom I really don’t want to have to justify myself.

Over a decade after the release of the The Beast Within, Hasbro released a brand new set of Dinobot toys which combined to form Volcanicus. The creators of the Prime Wars Trilogy and of the Earth Wars mobile game gleefully included the new combiner in their stories, and the fandom at large embraced it wholeheartedly.

As her thread drew to a close, Terry van Feleday wrote something which I think about often:

Of course [...] let’s not forget that no matter the amount of earnest work put into something, sometimes it just turns out shit. There’s a strange perception I noticed in critical response where people seem to find it difficult to consider something both earnest or satirical and, well, not very well made. Sucker Punch can’t be an honest indictment of cinematic objectification and a somewhat poorly conceived, almost hypocritical attempt at being more clever than you should. Transformers can’t be an inversion of the traditional hero/villain narrative showcasing the effects of authoritarian propaganda and a meandering, under-focused, often poorly communicated, destructive mess. Maybe it’s a strange entertainment-version of the Just World Fallacy where lacking results must necessarily result from lacking effort, or maybe it’s modern audiences’ strange worship of subversiveness, where a work critical of old tropes must by default be better than the works it’s commenting on throwing to the dustbin of history, but either way, people are extremely resistant to the idea that films they found emotionally dissatisfying could express depth and meaning and tend to dismiss them as another ‘genre film’.

Mr. Gibson is a children’s picture book illustrator. The Beast has no place on his website.

X. Proceed On Your Way To Oblivion

TFNation - the UK’s biggest Transformers convention - has become something of an annual pilgrimage for me, and (as of the time of writing) I’ll be making that pilgrimage in a matter of days. If you see me there, feel free to come over and punch me. Or, y’know, just say hi. I’ll have some limited-edition printed copies of “PASS” to give out. For more information on that - and for infrequent Transformers-related musings and updates on future projects - wander on over to my twitter!

What are those future projects? Well, after the convention I’m planning to release an original short story. It’s not very good, but it’s got a few stylistic similarities to this comic (read: lots of swearing). I might have a little bit in the way of Transformers prose coming out down the line, but can’t really elaborate further on the form that’ll take. I’ve been planning to get back to Huskyquest for ages, and hopefully I’ll finally be able to do so once I settle back down at university. After that, I plan to focus my efforts on prose, so you may as well expect more radio silence from me.

If you’ve made it to the end of this almost-fifteen-thousand-word monstrosity, you, uhh... win all my internet points? Sorry, that’s all I have.

Remind me never to do this again.

#Transformers #comics #The Beast Within #The Beast Within (My Pants)#The Wadapan #14/08/2019

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originaljediinjeans · 6 years

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MCU Rewatch: “Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2″ (2017)

The best thing I can say without passing judgment is that the whole situation with Meredith Quill and Ego is really sad.

This film did so much for both Gamora and Nebula’s characters and their relationship. It actually did a lot more to set up for Infinity War at the time it came out than any other Phase 3 film before or after, even Thor: Ragnarok. And that in spite of the fact that James Gunn isn’t a huge fan of Thanos, so I’ve heard. Thanos is an influential character in the film without actually even being in it, just because of what he did to his adopted daughters and how they are dealing with it.

Mantis is the perfect addition to the Guardians of the Galaxy. Mantis is a precious cinnamon roll and must be protected at all costs.

Quill converted the other Guardians to music, I’m so proud.

But that’s probably because oldies music makes anything you do 1000% percent cooler including murder

A more accurate title for this film would be, “Journey to the Center of the Ego.”

Baby Groot may be cute but he is 50% more angst and murder than old Groot

Rocket and Yondu’s relationship in this film is so underrated. Rocket and Yondu GET EACH OTHER and it’s incredible to watch their scenes together. “I KNOW WHO YOU ARE BECAUSE YOU’RE ME.”

I know Rocket would want to kill me if I tried but I still want to hug Rocket.

Seriously, what is it with GOTG and “cute” characters that are actually sadists?

I think Peter Quill is still very much the 9-10 year old kid that Yondu abducted, just with more swearing and sex

“He may have been your father, but he weren’t your daddy” has to be one of the most profound things a character in the MCU has ever said.

One of the reasons that this isn’t one of my favorite Marvel films is because the swearing, crude humor, and sexual references are really intense throughout the whole film. I saw this film on opening night with my mother and I was so embarrassed for her. Gosh, the Guardians are probably 10x worse with it off-camera.

Another thing I realized tonight is that the climax/battle against Ego at the end is so much more intense than the same sequence in Vol. 1. Ego is a freaking scary dude. Like, his spaceship and display pods are really clean and creepy looking, his full powers are all kinds of intense. Not to mention the giant brain at the core--I am terrified of brains.

Basically, GOTG Vol. 2 is a horror movie masquerading as a space comedy

Dream Cosplay: painting myself metallic gold to be one of the Sovereign, if not Ayesha herself

Like, I want to BE Ayesha because she’s got a great wardrobe, ladies-in-waiting, and a carpet rolled out for her wherever she goes.

Did Groot every actually buckle up when Quill told him to?

Team Kraglin. Forever.

Another reason I dislike this film: intense depictions of murder. I’m willing to admit that the twats who mutinied against Yondu deserved it for throwing their opponents into space to die. But that doesn’t make me any less uncomfortable watching the arrow scene.

The entire mutiny arc is really upsetting to watch. They literally hazed baby Groot.

It’s funny, though, how in a movie littered with retro pop culture references the arrow’s trail kind of lights up like a neon sign

Yondu wasn’t really that great of a “dad” to Quill. He was abusive and cruel and made sure PQ got a good education in debauchery. But in giving his life for Peter, he took the chance to be the father figure that Peter deserved--the dad that anyone deserves. Yondu knew he had made a mistake--he knew he’d been immoral his whole life--but for this one thing, for this one person, he was determined to make things right

Bless Yondu for making Mary Poppins cool again.

My adopted brother recently reconnected with his birth parents. My family and I feel incredibly blessed that they both turned out to be good people. Believe me, I understand the tension of PQ finally meeting his biological father.

PQ has just basically had to put up with toxic people his entire life and it’s saddening to think about, but that’s why the Guardians are the best thing to ever happen to him

We don’t have as much detail about Nebula’s backstory as we do for Gamora’s. But I have the feeling she was also taken away from a murdered biological family. The line “I only wanted a sister” speaks volumes. Like Quill and Yondu, Nebula and Gamora were forced together into terrible circumstances, but they still bonded, and they bonded enough to want a relationship better than the one they had. Dysfunctional families are still family, and this theme carries over to the Guardians’ arc in Infinity War.

GOTG vol 2, highlights the importance of adoptive family, but it also emphasizes the fact that the family you don’t choose is still a part of you--and it doesn’t have to be a bad thing.

So in the audience with the Sovereign, Ayesha suggests to Quill that she would be interested in having sex with him and he responds that he would be more than happy to take her up on that. Then at the end, the leader of the Sovereign fighter fleet--Ayesha herself?--announces to the Guardians that they will be made an example of in order to make a point to the universe: “Don’t screw with the Sovereign”. If you take the term “screw” as a euphemism for intercourse, that line is a response to Ayesha and Quill’s “flirting”--he said he wanted to “screw” her but she’s telling him no (after she already said yes????)

So the fact that Yondu sold children to Ego is coming out JUST NOW? When did Sylvester Stallone find out about this?

Nebula needs to consider a career as a pirate/ravager. She’s so good at it.

There’s got to be a good story behind why Yondu decided to keep Quill. Maybe after he was abducted Peter ran and hid in a cubby somewhere on Yondu’s ship and that impressed him. Maybe that made Yondu realize that he couldn’t deliver a scared kid to a monster like Ego. Not this one. It needed to stop.

I like how Peter tries to be romantic with Gamora but she doesn’t get all his references.

One think I kind of dislike about Vol. 2 but not as much as some of my other points listed here is that PQ is kind of a damsel in distress. He falls for Ego’s trap hook, line, and sinker, and then he has to do the whole tentacle suspension.

One thing I noticed was that in the scene where Ego details the Expansion, Peter is standing in a patterned circular space in the middle of the main hall. In the storybook Dove Isabeau, the stepmother witch lures the heroine into her chamber and has her stand on a pentagram design in the center of the room, and with her in that position the witch casts her spell to turn Isabeau into a dragon. Interesting similarity.

“Hey, remember that Ayesha chick?” “Yeah--oh hell!”

Do all celestials want to destroy the universe and rebuild it in their image?

I get how Ego is a metaphor for colonialism, but there’s also the fact that he’s the toxic parent that tires to make their child be something they don’t want to be

Gosh, Ego’s Expansion gloop is horrifying. Especially on Earth. Is there a way to get rid of that stuff? Does it fade away or will it have to be removed? Like how are the stand-alone movie villains so scary and how is Thanos so bland in comparison?

Notice there was a shot or two of this happening on Xandar.

They gave us the whole scene with Rocket explaining the bomb to Groot and asking Quill for tape when there was an entire freaking battle going on outside like what? That was pretty clever.

That part where Groot got squeezed by Ego I was like “Noooo my son!”

Quill tapping into his celestial powers to fight Ego back as an equal was pretty impressive.

The scene with Rocket versus the Ravagers is a riot. Rocket is like a petty troll ninja--which is really a perfect description of a stereotypical sassy raccoon.

Also Nebula’s entrance in that scene is kind of hilarious.

“DING!”

Drax is a pretty sincere person, and he finds humor in everything. But he’s just off the wall sometimes. He’s dramatic. He hates music and dancing and if you’re paying attention when he tells the story of how he met his wife that’s actually just a thing they had in common, so Drax isn’t representative of his entire race. Drax is...just Drax.

When we first see Mantis with Ego, we see she is scared. She knows what’s about to go down. But bless her heart she really makes the best of a new situation and befriends Drax--who is just as clueless as she is.

Ego admitting to PQ that he killed Meredith? Quill had the right reaction, man.

Ego even confesses that he was tempted to stay with Meredith, but he chose himself and his “mission” over her and their son. Really, he is the worst.

“If he ends up being evil, we’ll just kill him.” Easier said than done.

#gotg vol 2 #mcu rewatch #we're in the endgame now #guardians of the galaxy

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zebraslovescupcakestoo · 7 years

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Golden eyes Chapter 4

“Why, Kitty and Felix! It's so nice to see you two again!”

I can't believed what I'm seeing. It was Alice Angel. The famous singer of USA. She was wearing her glasses to conceal her identity, along a mauve blouse and matching skirt. White shirt and ruffles. Black heels and her hair was in a braid knots. Why is she doing here in Chicago?

“Why, Kitty! And Felix too! It's been a while! You're still together?” Another cheerful familiar voice that came from the person on the piano. She had light blue Chinese dress with a bit of golden yellow details and matching ribbons in her hair buns. That was Minnie Mouse.

Kitty's mood was enlighten. “OMG! Why didn't you gals tell me you were all here! I would’ve made time!” Alice hugged her. “I'm sorry, but we just bumped into each other earlier and we decided to come here to catch up. You only came in two minutes after that so you didn't miss out much” Minnie joined the conversation. “Isn't this great? The three gemstones of the old chorus reunited after graduation. It feels like time just like yesterday when we were still teenagers.”

Let me explain. These three were once as they claimed, in a chorus. They were all very talented singers, but Alice was the one who really bring out the best of the group's performance. Minnie was the group's pianist. Her skill was well rewarded at the talent show few years back and she sometimes plays with Alice. Did I already mention she's Mickey's girl? And finally, Kitty was the life of the group. Despite she had a different career path, she had a lovely voice and was their closest friends. Almost like the older sister of the group, most of the time.

“Felix.” Kitty asked. “Can you order three strawberry sundaes for us? You can leave after that. Well be having a girl talk after a song for old time sake.” “You don't worry about the payment. Tell him it's from me. He knows who I am.” Alice winked. I just... decided to get their orders. I had enough excitement for today. I've told the owner what they wanted and he said he already know. While I waited at the counter I heard the piano started to play....

Oh, my mother was frightened by a shotgun they say

That's why I'm such a wonderful shot I'd be out in the cactus and I'd practice all day But now tell me what have I got

I'm quick on the trigger With targets not much bigger Than a pinpoint - I'm number one But my score with a feller Is lower than a cellar Oh, you can't get a man with a gun

When I'm with a pistol

I sparkle like a crystal

Yes, I shine like the morning sun But I lose all my luster When with a bronco buster Oh, you can't get a man with a gun

Minnie's piano piece was as lovely as she was when she was playing.

With a gu-un

With a gu-un No, you can't get a man with a gun

If I went to battle

With someone's herd of cattle You'd have steak when the job was done But if I shot the herder They'd holler bloody murder And you can't shoot a male In the tail Like a quail Oh, you can't get a man with a gun If I shot a rabbit Some furrier would grab it For a coat that would warm someone But you can't shoot a lover And use him for a cover Oh, you can't get a man with a gun

The gals with umbrellers

Are always out with fellers In the rain or the blazing sun But a man never trifles With gals who carry rifles Oh, you can't get a man with a gun

With a gu-un

With a gu-un No, you can't get a man with a gun

A Tom, Dick or Harry

Will build a house for Carrie When the preacher has made them one But he can't build you houses With buckshot in his trousers Cause a man may be hot But he's not When he's shot Oh, you can't get a man with a gun

Minnie finished her piano solo while the customers applauded and complimented. The waiter came up to me with the order. I went to place where they settled at the table. After that, I said my goodbyes and left. I decided to return home after a 'productive' day.

I did have some new information on the necklaces, but I'm still no where with the weeds issue and the dog-napping. I then noticed that someone's is watching, following me. So I decided to take an alley route, and he followed me after. This time, I'm NOT gonna let my guard down. I took off my grey cap and started to twirl it with one finger. I slowed my paced and I sang a bit softly, just to let him think I was in cloud land.

“Doo-dloo-doo-doo-doo.”

I let him get closer to me, from behind.

“Doo-dloo-doo-doo-doo-doo.”

He matched my timing and he slowly raised his arm. Just a bit more...

“ I'm singing in the-” WACK!

I used my quick reflexes to block his fist, covering with one hand on his. It was a draw. One of my eye winced a bit from the pain. 'DANG! My arm feels like it's got knocked to sleep'. My stalker had almost the same height as I. He had a Navy blue fedora with a black stripped ribbon. Navy blue over coat and pants. Dark brown shoes and his face was well hidden. But I already knew who he was.

“You're better not doing this every time you'll come and see me, Oswald Disney.” I told him. He retrieved his left arm and put it in his pocket and I retrieved mine to caress a bit. Man! his strength might rival with Boris Wolfenstein.

“Aw! I'm touched you remembered me, Hēi māo. Not a lot can do that apart from my baby brother and some acquaintances.” He removed his fedora with his right hand, revealing his smirking face. Like I needed him to make my day as salty as crap again.

“What is it that you wanted this time? Another shake down?” He laughed when I said that. “Nah! Hēi māo, If I really wanted to fight, I'd pick a better opponent or would've done more to you back at the tea shop.” He then tosses his hat next to mine besides mine, here it was laying on the ground on my left.

“I'm here to see what you found in the glass shop.” He stepped closer on the right side of me. I keep my guard up. “I didn't got anything new except some of the necklaces that were on display were almost similar to the ones that were stolen and I think that the store's manager was a real piece of work.” He stopped next to me. “I questioned him some things and the only answers I got was that the shop was owned by a certain guy who owns the King Dice Casino. My second was that the products were delivered to the shop. So much for new leads recommended by you.”

He glared at me and that makes me freeze on the spot. I might hit the wrong button on this bunny. He turned to me and said. “The request was actually Mickey's, not mine.” His face resumed to his resting poker smile look, but I still feel he's giving me the chills and I blushed a bit. But I won't show him that. Until he paced toward me, one step at a timely manner. What's this odd feeling I'm getting from him?

“I know you're a cleaver detective, Hēi māo. You should know as well as we do that the shop was a front to a much different business.” I took a step back as he was getting closer. “You mean the product was-” I hit the wall when I realized what he meant. “Forgeries. Even if they changed the images or added some flair, they made copies from the 'borrowed' originals.” He stopped dangerously right in front of me and I blushed redder. What's this feeling? “Is this what you- HE meant for a new lead? Is he the one who stole the jewelries cases or one of the thieves?”

He grabbed my collar and gently pulls my face closely to his. I started to feel hot.“Good theory, but you're wrong. The one you've talked to is Giovanchi Dazzardo. A.K.A King Dice. He's actually the manager of the King Dice Casino near the Lake Michigan.”

“H-huh?” I already knew that place had some shady reputations with the owner himself alone but... “Are you-”

“No, judging by your fighting style this morning, you wouldn't stand a chance against them even if you asked to investigate. We're talking about professional assassins here. Not the usual hired, dopey muscled, goons mafias likes to toy around. Even Mickey himself would've had trouble dealing these scary clowns.”

Is he telling me I'm not good enough to take on this kind of gang? “Don't be too disappointed. You did well for your first part. Now here's MY second lead. Considered it your little reward for doing well on our requests.” He moved his ginning face to my red ear and said. “Bendy is the one who's responsible for the previous and recent renewed drug distributions.” I was almost surprised.

“Wh- How did you figure that out? Is there proof to your claim?” Even if I wanted to bring down my swore arch-enemy, I have to do it the right way like my father used to do. He then lets me see his face, but he still so close I started to tremble a bit.

“I don't exactly 'HAVE' physical evidence, but I can make you 'HEAR IT' straight from the midget bad apple's motor mouth along with his 'associates.' They are going to have a meeting at the The House of Mouse tomorrow night. Remember what the deal was at noon?” I winced when he said that. Crap! I forgot.

His facial expression had a grinning cheshire cat-like.“If you're thinking about them, I already told you. It's my territory. If they are smart enough to read, they have to get through me first if they wanted to lay a finger or pull the trigger. I promised their safety if something does go south.” He assured me.

Can I really trust this guy? We hardly knew each other apart our profession. Not to mention we are not exactly on 'friendly' terms.“Even if you don't want to, you'll have to go. Micks' negotiations success are very positively accurate.”

“Excuse me? Are you threatening me to go?” I asked with an raised eyebrow.

He didn't held back for his thin patience at the last part when he 'hmp!' and nearly punched through the wall behind me, barely an inch next to my face at a VERY quick reaction. All my red colors faded to white.

That move was impressively intimidating, no wonder he's in charge of Chinatown district.

My expression was pale when I saw a portion of the wall crumbled down a bit with some debris. 'It could have been my face smashed-in instead.' I mentally said before I started chanting 'calm down' repetitively in my head.

“No no, just a 'friendly' suggestion. Sorry if I sounded a bit 'forceful' on ya, Hēi māo.” He then gave me some space, just enough to move a bit. Not much.

“N-no harms d-done!” I lied horribly. I regained my composure and replied with some 'reasonable' facts he'd might have missed.

“I-I understand you and your brother wanted to solve the case as quickly as possible. But I cannot just blindly running at them, banging pots and pans, yodelling 'you're under arrest!', then send to court without hard evidence and then I ended looking like another boneheaded gumshoe.”

He chuckled a bit. “Hehehe! That might have been the best entertainment I had for a while if ya did that. But tell me something, Hēi māo, did you arrest a certain group of thugs nicknamed 'the butcher gang' two week prior at the Chinatown district?”

What the heck is he throwing me off this time? “Y-yes. I caught them for shoplifting some goods at the S.P.I.C.E. Shop it's called. Why you asked? Are they related to this case?”

“Not entirely.” He confessed. “I just heard from my 'sources' they were involved from that specific case with the Snowflake Diamonds.” I was shocked to hear that.

“What?!? But they're supposed to be serving at least six months in prison!” At least from what I heard in the courtroom that day.

“Wanna guess who decided to bargain the authorities and use the crooks as dunce patrol for this plan?” He replied, with his arm crossed and a raised eyebrow from his poker face.

I already knew that answer and grumbled. “Bendy Drew...” He whistle a bit. “Impressive! Either you have more guts to pronounce his REAL name when we first met, or you really have a death wish, Hēi māo. Nobody have the nerve to say it even out of his view. Last guy who did got his throat slashed, grinned to mice meat, added rat poisoning seasoning and feed it to the sewer rodents.”

I didn't care for his tantrums over his last real name, apart the executions. “Never mind that, Tell me why he needed those three now.” He just wave his finger and I was somewhat entranced by him. “Ah ah ah! No so fast. No more freebies if you don't agreed to come to the House of Mouse. If I were you, I'd take my offer. Why? Because your other two feathered friends won't have much luck helping you with this clustered mess of missing necklaces, the dog-napped beagle, and the drugs. They'll be having too much on their plate tomorrow and for the next few day. Your girl Kitiana is in the same boat as them. YOU will be on your own for a bit without much to go on.”

He REALLY wanted me to go that bad, eh? But first I want to make sure if he was just bluffing. “What makes you think they-” He cuts me off. “Let's just say while we each had a bit of work this morning, my sources told me there was some low class thugs stirred up some riot over at the Chicago's Michigan Avenue Bridge. I don't think you'll need me to explain the rest of the work process when these kind of sh!t happens. You'll have your share of the paper work tomorrow. You'll probably have some free time around evening which would be a good beneficial for both of us.” I just stare at him blankly when he'd just spit out those words.

What. The. Fish paste. Did he really just told me I'll have to do as he say no matter what?! Not on one of my nine lives!!!

“If you say what is true,” I started to leave. “Then don't count on me to turn up tomorrow night. I'll probably have to do some overtime because of it. Please give my apologies to your brother, Mickey. MRGH!” I Suddenly felt his hand grasping over my mouth and I was pulled back in front, closely to him. Now that odd feeling from earlier was rushing back! Now my face is a deep shade of red. “Oh! two last thing before you go. First. your hat!” He shoved over my grey golfer cap over my head and eyes. “ I know you'll DEFINETELY come. Mark my words.” He claimed before he released me. I took off my hat just to go after him, but he was no where to be seen. How does he do that so fast? Blasted! That's the second time they escaped with that blinding me trick! Although I admit, it was a clever tactic if one doesn't want to have a parkour chase.

While I was on my way back home after I pick up some meat at the butcher shop, I scoffed of what he's saying might be true and their predictions. Then again, I might be to 'busy' to go. Maybe I might have 'different' plans for tomorrow if I ever got lucky to leave the station. It's a 'possibility' after all. I'm not gonna let him or his brother toying me, nor my family and friends. They can't keep me from my case despite their involvements, they can't tell me what to do and they certainly don't 'own' me! I smiled a bit when I found that loophole in the contract. I arrived at my neighborhood home which it was a decent small house fit for a family. My friend Woody McPecker actually owns our place after his uncle. but he gave me a good selling price for living here. It was a modest home, not too fancy but it was well kept. I entered and decided to put on my green apron and start supper with a few vegetables left overs from last night with some pork chops I bought.

During the supper preparation, I reviewed my cases:

First, there was multiple thefts.

Four missing necklaces, each are related to the Jewelry Show's presentation, contributed by Disney INC.

But each had a different ways of being robbed.

So it's more than just one person who are doing the jobs.

Then there was the second matter:

Countess Violette's beagle was dog-napped.

She and her dog was participating at the Dog Show.

Along with Mr. Vermelho and Mr. Blancheur with their dogs.

Not to mention, Disney INC is also sponsoring the show with the first prize related to the Jewelry Show.

I also found out about there was Minnie Mouse's participating in the contest, despite she might get disqualified for her relation to Mickey's A.K.A. Disney's most famous poster boy and future CEO.

I still don't have anything else to add to this dog-napping case, but it could be some jealousy, just trying to get rid of some competition or something. I have to pray for a good lead.

Now for my third matter:

The possible renewal of the drug distributions.

The one I found might be duds, but there's still troubling to me.

I now know it was Bendy who's behind this and the previous one.

Even when we did a clean sweep of rounding the 'dealers', some might have slipped out of our reach.

But on the plus side, I got one of his TOP member from the Alfonso's mafia with the garbage can trick and he's residing in Texas' prison. It did felt good to at least took him down a peg!

So far, the necklaces were related to the dog show, yet what does the weed have to do anything in between?

And then there was the final 'new' issue I'm not too happy about that happened today:

These 'thanks-to-these-two-my-favourite-childhood-cartoons-and-films-are-now-ruined' Disney's Prick Brothers.

Wait. Scratch that. Make that MOSTLY that rabbit's fault!

It was first the scene with Bendy and Mickey this morning at the theatre that I found out they were 'sort of' together.

Then it was Oswald's 'first impression', the proposition Mickey provided at the Tea shop.

Besides the Glass shop and the girl's unscheduled group date, I had to be followed AND got a second impression from that carrot eater, battle frenzy, screwy rabbit. Plus, what's this odd feeling I'm getting from him, apart annoyance and fear, I felt... Never mind.

He DID however, to be fair, told me some important details for the missing necklaces. Maybe. But I can't trust them, not yet.

I ain't gonna go to their 'House of Mouse' place. No flapping way after what I was introduced to. I can manage these case just fine with what I got and plausibly some new ones!

I put the pork chops in the oven until suddenly, I heard the kids and Kitty coming in with another familiar voice that makes me shiver. I went to see for my self just to tell myself I'm just hearing things. Please let it be just random voices caused by a very long day I'm having.

NOPE! He's here. With my nephews in his arms. Next to Kitty. Mickey Walt Disney himself. In my house... well, my 'humble home' to be specific.

“Uncle Felix! Guess who we just met on our way back!” Inky said with joy. “Mickey Mouse came to see us! How cool is that?!” Winky replied with sparks of happy thoughts.

“You should have seen their reaction when we crossed paths after I picked them up.” Kitty smiled at me.

“Aw! Gosh! Please! I'm just a rookie actor. I'm not all THAT important. I'm really just an average guy outside of the movie sets.” Mickey replied with his charismatic charm. I was still not smiling.

I know that smile is now full of rotten cheese, ya over sized mouse. YOU didn't came here JUST for a visit.

“Say tell me, are you by chance that underdog detective, Felix Lockheart? I heard a few things about you from an acquaintance of my brother's. I really respect those kinds of good people who are dedicated to keep our country safe. Even if it's just for Chicago.” He 'complimented' me.

He's just using that excuse to see me for something I know already.

“As much as I wanted to stay a bit, but I have to stay with my father for tonight. He's not felling well these past few days after some tiring schedules with our animations, theme park and other stuff I hardly ever knew. SO!” He reached inside his black vest and I can tell what they are.

“In one of the stories about your exploits, you helped out a honest family grocery store in the Chinatown district from a group of thugs.” He showed the four tickets. “My Asian friends wished to invite you and your cat family to the House of Mouse tomorrow night with live entertainment. I'll be there along with Alice Angel and my girl, Minnie!” Their eyes were telling me they were all under his charms. Great! Now he's got them against me!

“Whoa! Felix! That place is known for like, almost everything! Class, guests, live music, anything!” Kitty claimed.

“YAY! Night out!” The twins were excited.

“I'll give these to the lovely lady, make sure you don't lose them.” He handed over to Kitty. “Oh! And may I have a small chat with Felix alone? I need to to ask a couple of things.”

“Sure! I'll keep an eye on the meat!” Kitty replied, walking pass by me before giving me a kiss on the cheek.

“We'll do the table!” The twins rushed afterwards.

Now it's just me and him. My face is still plastered with 'wtf are you doing here?' look since he arrived.

“Before you say anything, I don't mock anybody who wears aprons. At least you don't wear what Minnie's got me.” He told me as a joke. “I'm pretty sure you're not here JUST to drop off some tickets.” I told him straight forward.

He grabbed me close with his one arm around my shoulders and whispered. “Listen, I know we were on was a rough start noon, but we really want only you to help us.”

“Why only me? There are plenty of good officers that can help out too.” I whispered back.

“I can't tell you the reasons for now, but I REALLY need you to trust me on this. You have something special that can solve these cases.” He explained but I still don't get it. So I asked. “But WHAT is it?” That mouse just tsked. “It's your hidden talent, obviously. That's the key to help finding the missing necklaces and the dog mysteries.”

Huh?! My 'hidden' talent? “What 'hidden' talent? My detective, soccer or violin skills?” He looked at me with a poker face with an raised eyebrow.

“You know well what 'talent' I was talking about.” He took my chin and make me look straight in the eyes.

Is he referring... No. No, not possible! “No, I really don't know what you were talking about.”

“I can tell when people lie too, ya know? But hey, don't worry.” He then whispered THIS in my ear. “Your 'gift' is safe with us for now.” I froze when he told me that.

NO! How?! I-I...

“Oh dear!” He looked at his invisible watch. “I need to get back with my father and my brother. It's been a while since we had supper altogether. I will take my leave. I hope we will see each other tomorrow night. GOOD BYE!!” They were waiving back at him until he leaves. I was still standing. Lost in thoughts. I... really lost my apatite.

---

It was around 10 o'clock when I was laying in my bed. I was reading the Chinese translations book for when ever I had to deal with some of Oswald's dialogues. I finally found out that 'Hēi māo' nickname he gave me means 'Black cat.'

Pshe! I am somewhat not amused nor surprised! But I still blushed a bit.

What REALLY got me off guard in today's outing was Mickey told me they discovered about my 'secret' talent. His he telling the truth or just bluffing me to tell the truth.

I put down my book next to my night table and then I covered one eye with my left hand. I sighed, close my eyes before I drifted to sleep.

God, why did I have this so called 'gift'?

To be continued>>> Chapter 5

Read Chapter 3 here

Read the beginning here: Chapter 1

----- Author’s note:

OHHHHHHHHH!!!!! An early chapter release!

I did wanted to wait for Friday, but I had to work for like the whole day and I might be a bit late on my releases...

So for the song here is was from that musical ‘Annie get your gun’

ANYWAYS! We see that Felix get to know Oswald a bit better (but not in a good way for now.) I hope that this case of webbed crimes isn’t too complicated for anyone... I’m doing my best to make sure it’s understandable so far.

And lastly here’s the BIG question: What did the Disney brothers know about Felix’s ‘gift’? Better yet, WHAT is his ‘gift’?

Keep checking in next week! Cause in the next chapter, our favorite demon and wolf will be there!

BBTIM characters belong to Marini4.

Cartoon and gaming characters belong to their respected owners. (Meatley, Disney, ect...)

#bendy before the ink machine #Bendy and the Ink Machine #Felix The Cat #Felix #mickey #Mickey Mouse #oswald the lucky rabbit #oswald #humanized #human #fanfiction #marini4

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anavoliselenu · 7 years

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Heart of stone chapter 7

My feet pounded through the last mile on the treadmill. Sweat dripped down the side of my face and I wiped it away with my hand. A solid cardio workout was what I needed to clear my head, as work just didn’t seem to be cutting it lately. My life, and all that was in it, had suddenly become uninteresting. All except for one thing.

Selena Cole.

I had gone into the office that morning, only to find that I was completely bored with the tasks that awaited me. There was no excitement, no challenge. The only highpoint from the morning had been reading Selena’s snappy text messages.

Disgusted with myself for lack of focus, I ended up canceling my appointments for the rest of the day, and headed down to the gym in Corner Stone Tower. I had looked for my trainer, but he was with another appointment. I could have pushed for a session, but decided that it would be better to go at it alone. My sullen mood dictated the necessity for solidarity.

Up until recently, I had been satisfied. I had money. I had status. And I’ve never once had to pursue a woman. Yet here I was, chasing after some chic that I barely knew, playing a game that I’ve never before had to play. I tried to shut it down, but Selena’s brown eyes haunted me even in my sleep. Images of her naked and kneeling consumed me, so much so that I could barely think about much else.

And it was seriously pissing me off.

I finished the final mile and slowed the treadmill to a cool down speed. I could have easily gone another five miles at a run, but I was done. Even the workout was boring me.

I’ve been too long without a Sub. That’s my problem.

Grabbing a towel, I hit the showers.

Bracing myself against the shower wall, I let the water steam over me as I thought about the last time I had a good fuck. Nobody really stuck out in my mind, at least not one that I’d care to hook up with again. I could only think of one person that I wanted, despite my efforts to forget about her, and I wasn’t even sure if she would even be open to my sort of lifestyle.

But I could show her the ropes…

Ropes.

The metaphor put another image in my head, and I slammed my fist against the tiled wall.

How old am I? I seriously need to get a grip!

I had to think about this rationally. Too many things had gone wrong since meeting Selena. Despite what she thought, I really did have every intention of giving her a formal interview that day in my conference room. But at some point, my intentions had changed. I didn’t mean to seduce her.

Or did I? Who am I kidding?

I’ve wanted her under me, hot and submissive, since day one.

But be that as it may, I had handled the situation with her without thinking and had been forced to wait it out. Selena needed space after the interview gone wrong. There was truth behind the expression about patience being a virtue, so I had deliberately given her a few days to cool off, maintaining silent neutrality between us while I put together a plan. The cell phone swap was just the beginning of what I had in mind, even if she was ticked off about it. I had known before sending it that she wouldn’t be the most receptive. For once, I was able to accurately predict her reaction. But Selena’s anger had been a risk that I was willing to take if it meant that I got to see her again.

Stepping from the showers, I quickly towel dried and threw on jeans and a t-shirt. I collected my duffle bag and the garment bag that contained my suit from earlier in the day, and headed out of the locker rooms.

As I approached the front desk of the gym, I saw that Gretchen was working the counter. Gretchen was attractive, a pretty face with a tall and lean physique, and was currently sporting yoga pants and a pink crop top. She had been skirting around me for months, dropping elusive hints to show her interest in me every time we spoke.

She gave me a coy smile and averted her eyes down when she saw me approaching.

Definitely the submissive type. Maybe I should just scratch my plans for Selena and satisfy my bug with this one.

In just a few short strides, I closed the distance between us and stepped up to the counter. Gretchen’s eyes remained downcast, even though she knew that I was right in front of her.

“Hey, Gretchen,” I drawled out, deliberately turning up the charm for the gym employee. However, even to my own ears, the greeting sounded false. Fake. I flashed her a toothy grin and a wink in an attempt to be more convincing.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Stone. What can I do for you today?” Gretchen asked. Her words were professional, but her tone was suggestive and could be easily picked up on by anyone with a sharp ear.

You can do a lot of things for me, baby. Particularly anything that will make me forget about a brunette’s curls and big brown eyes.

“Actually, I need a couple of things. First, I need you to send this suit up to Laura. I want it sent out for dry cleaning,” I told her, handing over the garment bag. “Secondly, I need to use an office for about fifteen minutes or so.”

She took the suit from me and allowed her fingers to hesitate slightly on mine. Her gaze traveled from our hands to my face, her eyes narrowing provocatively. After a few seconds, she turned to place the bag on the counter behind her. When she spun to face me again, her cheeks were flushed a rosy pink.

Hmm. She’s almost making this too easy.

“The manager’s office is available for you to use if you will be requiring a computer. Or you can use the meeting room if you want a locked door with a little more privacy,” she offered.

It was hard not to notice the way she emphasized the last word. Or the obvious mention of a locked door. She shifted her eyes to the side, bit her lip, and nervously tugged on the ends of her blond ponytail.

She couldn’t have been more conspicuous.

In the past, I’ve always brushed off her flirtations. She went against my rules. I never take on the unknown, or I’d risk jeopardizing too much. It was much safer to stick to women that I knew had interests that reflected my own, as they understood the value of discretion. Privacy was hard to maintain for someone of my stature. Gretchen worked in my building and people talk. People talk a lot.

Fuck the rules for one day. I should just go for this one.

But as soon as I thought it, I dismissed the notion and resigned myself to the inevitable.

Rules or no rules. It isn’t going to work.

“I only need to make a couple of calls. Joe’s office will be fine,” I stated indifferently. My tone was clipped rather than polite, as I was irritated with myself for giving her even a moment of consideration.

“Whatever is easier for you, sir,” she accommodated with a slight nod. The light in her eyes extinguished, her poise returning to all business. “I’ll just phone ahead and make sure that Joe clears the space for you.”

“Thank you, Gretchen.”

Any decent man would have felt a small twinge of guilt about leading her on, only to shut her down seconds later. But I wasn’t one of those men. For me, the rationale was simple. Gretchen wasn’t what I wanted. She was easy. Simple. Lacking any sort of challenge. A one-time roll in the hay with her would never dispel the restless energy that I had been dealing with for days. There was only one woman that held that power.

Selena.

I walked away from the obviously disappointed Gretchen and headed down the corridor that would take me to Joe’s office. When I came around the corner, I spotted the gym manager closing his office door behind him.

“Mr. Stone,” Joe greeted when he saw me coming towards him. When I reached him, he extended his hand to me.

“Joe,” I returned, accepting his handshake. It was loose, like a limp noodle, and cold and clammy against my palm. It was not the sort of handshake one would expect from someone with shoulders like a linebacker. “Thank you for the space. You saved me a trip back upstairs to my office. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

“Take all the time you need, sir. If you need the computer, I left the guest login password on the desk for you. I’ll just be in the training room reviewing schedules. Please don’t hesitate to call me there if you need anything else.”

“Will do.”

Once he walked away, I wiped my hand on the leg of my jeans, attempting to dry the dampness that had been left there by the handshake. Joe was always nervous around me, although I could never understand why. In fact, everyone seemed to be nervous in my presence lately.

Has it always been like that? Or is it that I’m just noticing it for the first time?

Even Selena was tense around me. The way she twisted her hands together, or fiddled with the hem of her shirt – I intimidated her. She practically told me as much in her interview.

I’m not that much of an asshole, am I?

I stepped into the small office and closed the door behind me, my thoughts once again returning to Selena. Phase one in my plan had already been set in motion. It was time to forge ahead with the next step.

I knew that she would not be showing up for her “rescheduled” interview. I never had the notion that she actually would. But that was okay, as long as everything else fell into place.

I took a seat behind Joe’s gray metal-framed desk, and dialed Matteo Donati’s cell number. Matteo and I had been friends since high school, and I knew I could count on him to be discreet.

“Matt, I need a favor,” I said when he picked up.

“Whatever you need,” he obliged, his Italian accent still prevalent even after the twenty years he had spent in the States. “What’s up?”

“I need to arrange a private meeting with someone. It’s got to be tonight. Is the restaurant ready to entertain me and a guest?”

“If you don’t mind a nameless place with limited selections,” he joked, despite that fact that I knew he was frustrated. Matteo had mapped out every tiny detail for the restaurant, from the font printed on the menus to the wattage of the light bulbs. He had a true vision, but he was stumped when it came down to naming his lifelong dream.

“You’re over thinking it. I’ll help you figure out a name, don’t worry,” I assured him. “I know that the place isn’t finished, but I’m really just looking for somewhere that’s free of outside influences and interruptions. Can you make it work?”

“Enough is done that I could pull it off. Who’s the guest?”

“She’s a prospect for Turning Stone Advertising.”

“She?”

“Yes, she,” I confirmed. I knew that the request was probably more than a little odd, especially for me. I made a habit of conducting as much business as possible at Cornerstone Tower. I pursed my lips, waiting for the questions to flood. To my relief, they didn’t.

“I’ll go out this afternoon and get the things that I’ll need to put a dinner together. I should have the place ready for you by six o’clock.”

“That’s perfect. Thanks. See you soon.”

“Ciao!”

Confident that Matteo wouldn’t disappoint, I hit the end button and made my next call. This request would be even stranger than the first.

“Hale. Get a hold of Gavin from Tech. Have him pull up the GPS tracker for the company phones. I need to know where Selena Cole is right now.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Hale spoke again.

“You’re serious?”

“Yes, I’m fucking serious,” I snapped, thoroughly irritated that I had to tell him twice. “Just do it. She had an interview today that she didn’t show up for.”

It was an absolute lie of course, but there was no need for Hale to know that I was completely bordering on stalking.

“Right, boss. Give me a minute and I’ll text you the location.”

I have to be out of my goddamned mind.

I sat at a little table in La Biga, staring at the heart shaped pattern on the foam of my cappuccino. This was espresso number two, and my already frazzled nerves were jittery. I forced myself to look back at my computer screen and scroll through the job listings, attempting to keep thoughts of Justin Stone at bay.

It was practically impossible.

Maria came over to my table to check on me, a worried expression on her face.

“You look lost. Where is your beautiful smile today?” she asked, wiping her hands on her apron.

“I’m okay. I just have a lot on my mind,” I said, forcing a smile.

“Tell Maria. Maybe you will feel a little better.”

“Don’t worry. It’s nothing I can’t handle. I just need to get rid of an annoying little problem, that’s all.”

“Difficulties with a man?” she assumedly asked, her eyes kind as she sat down in the chair across from me.

“Oh, you could say that,” I admitted.

“Ah! Say no more. I understand. Men! Impossible to live with, but we need them all the same,” she said with a knowing smile.

“No, we don’t need them,” I said firmly. “Men are nothing but trouble – the whole lot of them.”

I heard the bells jingle on the café doors, signaling the arrival of a customer. Maria looked over my shoulder to see who had come in.

Oh, thank goodness!

That sound meant that Maria would have to busy herself with another customer. I appreciated her concern for me and I felt a twinge of guilt for wanting her gone. I just wasn’t up for conversation at the moment, even if it was with the kindhearted woman.

“Maybe you’ll change your mind when you see the handsome man coming our way,” she said as she stood up, pointing her finger at someone behind me.

I turned to see whom she was pointing at, and felt my stomach plummet to my feet. Justin Stone, wearing blue jeans and black t-shirt, casually strolled towards my table.

As much as I didn’t want to look, I couldn’t help but take in his godlike appearance. His denim fit loosely around his hips, while his black shirt was fitted, stretching tight across his pectorals and around his bronzed biceps. He looked irresistible and self-assured, his blue eyes piercing through me like knives. If I had once thought that he was mouthwatering in a suit, the man was undeniably deadly in a pair of jeans.

“Hello, Selena,” he greeted smoothly in that ever so cultured voice. A sexy grin spread across his features.

Oh. My. God.

A thousand emotions ran through me at the sight of him. It didn’t matter that I hated him. I didn’t matter that I never wanted to see this infuriating, arrogant man again. Just the sight of him flickered a spark and I felt my heart skip a beat. I was practically swooning in only a few short seconds. His smile alone made my insides quiver. I had to remind myself that I had been furious with him just moments before.

I’m supposed to be pissed off! Not drooling like a dog after a bone!

But the reality was, I was more irritated over the fact that I was being so pathetic, and allowing his pure male hotness get to me.

So rather than reveal how utterly captivated I was by his presence, I threw him an icy glare, allowing my fury at him and myself to come out in full force.

“You have some nerve! Why are you here?” I demanded, my tone menacing. People glanced in our direction and I realized that I was shouting. Maria raised an eyebrow at me and quickly retreated back behind the counter to busy her self with the pastry case. Angelo was there as well, concern showing plainly on his face. I knew that they were alarmed by my sudden outburst and were probably straining their ears to catch my every word. I forced myself to lower my voice. “I don’t want to see you!” I quietly hissed.

“I’m here to finish your interview,” he casually stated as he sat down in the chair that Maria had vacated. He appeared completely unperturbed by my wrath.

Was this guy for real?

His hair was slightly damp, like he just took a shower. He smelled of soap and sweat with a mild hint of musky cologne. The very masculine combination reeked havoc on my senses.

“Please, Mr. Stone. Take a seat,” I sarcastically replied.

“Sarcasm is not becoming on you, Selena.”

“Don’t call me Selena,” I snapped.

“Would you prefer to be addressed as Miss Cole?” he asked calmly, a curious expression on his beautiful face.

“Everyone calls me Selena, and that’s what I prefer.”

“Selena is a boy’s name,” he retorted.

“Well, it’s my name all the same. And once again, it’s the name that I would like to be called,” I said, my irritation reaching an all-time high.

“I’m not going to have this debate with you. Your name is Selena and that’s what I’m going to call you.”

He waited a second or two, as if gauging my reaction.

When I didn’t respond, a satisfied smile slowly formed on his face. I refused to waste my breath on an argument with him, so I bit my tongue instead of lashing out the many profanities that I was thinking.

I turned back to my laptop and pretended to be searching for a job. It was either that, or keep on staring like some nitwit at Justin Stone. If I did the latter, then I’d have to acknowledge how incredible he looked or that he still made my insides turn to mush every time he flashed one of those to-die-for smiles.

I could feel his scrutiny and I tried not to acknowledge him. But after several minutes, his careful watch won out and I looked up.

His face was amused, like he had been assessing how long I would be able to ignore him.

Oh, no. I’m not playing your silly mind games today.

“What do you want from me, Mr. Stone?” I asked impatiently.

“I already told you. I’d like to continue your interview. Since you didn’t show up today, I thought that I would bring the interview to you.”

I glanced at the clock on my computer screen. It was half past two o’clock.

“Are you really arrogant enough to believe that I’d show up for that two o’clock appointment?”

“It’s not arrogance. It’s simply finalizing business,” he said with a shrug, acting as if nothing was amiss. “As I recall, we left a few things unfinished.”

The anger that had been simmering beneath the surface bubbled over, and I let him have it.

“That’s certainly not how I would describe the turn of events. As I recall, I was discarded for your ten o’clock and then you hijacked my cell phone!” He looked confused for a moment, but I didn’t pause in my quiet rant. “What’s the matter? The tall girl with the black hair didn’t fulfill the needs at Turning Stone Advertising? Oh, wait – I forgot. You prefer red heads, right? That must be why you’re here. The black haired bimbo didn’t work out. For that matter, I can’t begin to figure out why you would even interview me! I didn’t think mousy brown hair did it for you. I’m not stupid, Stone. That was no job interview.”

He didn’t say anything and the silence stretched on for what seemed like eons. I just continued to glare at him. He, on the other hand, wore a look of mild disinterest that exacerbated my anger even more.

“Are you finished now, Selena?” he asked, still ever so reserved and calm. I was taken aback.

Yeah, I’m finished all right.

I closed my laptop and stood up to leave.

“Sit down,” he barked with command. I scowled at him. But then to my surprise, his expression changed. He seemed frustrated almost, and looked as though he was having some sort of internal battle with himself. He ran a hand through his hair, all of his careful control seeming to evaporate. Finally, he took a deep breath and in a resigned voice said, “Please, Selena. Sit down.”

Could it be? Justin Stone, the man who defines the meaning of measured confidence, seems unsure of himself.

He reached out and placed a gentle hand on my arm. Curiosity got the best of me and I sat.

“Let’s clear the air and get a few things straight,” he said. “First of all, the ‘black haired bimbo’ that you saw? That was my younger sister, Justine. She was rather upset with me that day because I hadn’t made much time for her lately.” His face softened and he looked thoughtful. A small lopsided grin formed on his perfect lips. “The little snot actually scheduled an appointment to see me.”

His sister. Sure, that’s what they all say.

However, deep down I knew that he was most likely telling the truth. That woman was breathtakingly gorgeous, and her long, flowing ebony hair had matched his color so perfectly. I studied Justin’s face, trying to see other similarities to the woman, only to find myself stunned once again by his extraordinary beauty. Two people that beautiful had to be related in some way. Maybe I misunderstood the affection that I saw pass between them. Even now, as he spoke of her, the expression on his face was one of tenderness, not one of a liar. Airing on the side of caution, I decided to bite my tongue and just listen.

“Secondly,” he continued. “There is a position available in the marketing division of Stone Enterprise. I would like to discuss the details of that once we get past this roadblock that we seem to be experiencing.”

“Is that what this is, Stone? A roadblock?” I snapped.

He hesitated before answering, as if choosing his words carefully.

“I’ll admit that your interview took an unexpected turn. I’m usually very good at reading women, but… you’re different for some reason.” A sardonic smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Yeah, well nothing surprises me about you, Stone. I’ve got your type all figured out,” I said cynically.

“I wouldn’t be so assuming, Selena. I’m probably nothing like you would expect. Isn’t there an expression about not judging a book by its cover? You may find that my pages are full of surprises,” he stated, casting me a roguish look.

“I doubt that,” I said with a false air of confidence. There was something about the gleam in his eye that was unsettling, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was.

“Then we can continue this cat and mouse game that you seem to be so apt at playing,” he said, his lips pursed with annoyance. “However, I would rather we discuss the reasons why I’ve sought you out.”

“Fine. Have it your way, Stone. Talk. I’m all ears,” I said, keeping up with my confident façade. I sat back and folded my arms, giving the appearance of total aloofness in an attempt to hide how shaken up I was by his mere presence.

“Finishing your interview would be an unnecessary formality. I already know that I want you, Selena.” He paused, allowing me to digest what he had said. His eyes burned into me and I struggled not to read too much into his words. “Despite what you think, I really would like to offer you a job. Very few firms are hiring and your job searches have probably returned minimal results.”

“You’re right. Nobody is hiring,” I admitted bitterly.

“Except me.”

“Okay, I’ll bite. What would this job entail?”

“Originally, the company was established for the sole purpose of providing affordable advertising to the business owners who have lease agreements with me. However, things have changed and I am looking to push Turning Stone Advertising to the next level. As of right now, the company is small and my personal knowledge of advertising is limited. If you came to work for me, I would have you manage the employees at Turning Stone and oversee all new incoming ad campaigns from start to finish.”

I was intrigued and I found myself straightening up a little in my chair. The thought of being in charge of an entire campaign was enticing, and more than just a little intimidating. I leaned forward and put my elbows on the table, itching to find out more.

“How many employees do you have at Turning Stone?”

“Currently, only three. They are mediocre on their best day, but they get the job done. For now.”

“Marketing can be very complex. Why would you start an advertising company if you didn’t know how to run it?”

“I know the basics. Enough so, that I could give direction to the few employees that I have and turn a small profit. The end goal was to help my tenants, not to make a fortune from it. Advertising in New York is very expensive. I want the businesses that pay me rent to be successful. A profitable business continues to provide me with a monthly income. Whereas, empty buildings are costly,” he finished, shrugging his shoulders indifferently.

“That makes sense,” I said thoughtfully. “But it seems like you have it all worked out. Why do you need me?”

“Surprisingly, the small firm has exceeded my expectations and other businesses have inquired about advertising with me. Because of my limited knowledge, I have refused to take on any outside clients. However, I’ve seen the potential money that can be made, and it would be foolish to hold Turning Stone back. That’s why I am looking to recruit you. I want you to build Turning Stone Advertising into a lucrative business venture for me.” He paused and rubbed his finger over his chin contemplatively. “If you can do that successfully, there may be the opportunity for a partnership down the road.”

“Having a partner doesn’t really fit your motif. You don’t strike me as the type of person that likes to answer to people. A partner means that you don’t get to call all the shots,” I told him skeptically.

He simply nodded his agreement and took my pessimism in stride.

“I’ll admit that I’ve never even considered the possibility of a partnership until now. But you have me at a slight disadvantage. Advertising is an unexplored territory for me. I may have the money to back the endeavor, but you have the knowledge that I don’t possess. I want your expertise and, in the meantime, I will pay you a substantial salary while you work on growing the business portfolio. You will be, in a sense, an investment for me.”

All of this seems to good to be true.

“I don’t know,” I said, giving voice to my doubts.

“I don’t know what you’re so unsure about, Selena. I am offering you the chance of a lifetime. You can build a company almost from the ground up, with no cost to you.”

“Mr. Stone, I’m a recent college graduate with little to no experience in the field, other than a few brief internships in college. While I’m somewhat flattered that you think I can do this, I’m sure that you could find someone with better qualifications.”

“Maybe. But I’ve done my research and I think that you are more than capable to do what needs to be done. You’re smart, determined, and driven. Those are three very admirable qualities in my book. And more importantly, I’m looking for someone that’s fresh.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet you are,” I responded with a snort. “Fresh meat is what you’re most likely after.”

The corners of his mouth tilted up slightly in a knowing smile, but he didn’t take the bait.

“I want fresh ideas – someone that’s willing to go outside the box and do what needs to be done. I often find that experienced individuals are attached to narrow-minded ideas,” he clarified.

“I’m still not buying it. What’s the catch?” I asked suspiciously.

“You’re very perceptive too, Selena. Another admirable quality,” he said. His blue eyes flickered with mischief. “I may have a few other ideas for you as well.”

“Such as?”

“You’re an intelligent woman. Why don’t you tell me?”

“Honestly, Stone. You’re so damned cryptic all the time. I constantly feel like you’re skirting around what you really want to say. Please, enlighten me,” I said testily. I pursed my lips in annoyance. Any tolerance I might have momentarily had for playing his guessing games had reached its limit.

“You can consider it a proposition of sorts, but it’s not something that I wish to discuss here.” He waved his hand in the air in reference to the coffee shop. “We can talk about it more over dinner tonight.”

Holy crap! Is megabucks asking me out?

Not that it should have mattered. I had promised myself that I would not allow him to get under my skin again, no matter what. Even if this job were a golden opportunity, I was barely hanging on to my wavering conviction as it was. Going out to dinner with him would be my undoing. I was sure of it.

“You still didn’t answer my question. But either way, I have plans tonight,” I responded nonchalantly, lifting my chin in the air.

It wasn’t a lie exactly. I had planned a date with a treadmill.

His eyes flashed again, but this time with a dark glimmer of words unspoken, searing into me and throwing me off balance. My confidence faltered, teetering as if on the edge of a precipice, and suddenly I wasn’t so sure if I would be able to fight this battle of wills much longer.

“Fine. If you insist on me spelling out my intentions, then I will,” he said, and took an impatient breath. Placing his palms on the table, he leaned forward. “I’ve tried to get you out of my head, but my efforts don’t seem to be working. So rather than fight the inevitable, I’ve decided to just go with it. I want you, Selena. Any way that I can have you. Preferably naked.”

WHAT? He wants me naked!

My eyes felt like they were about to pop out of their sockets. He said it so flippantly, his tone not even acknowledging the bomb that he just dropped. And it was nuclear. The thought of being naked under Justin caused goose bumps to trickle down my spine. His blatant honesty was ridiculously hot.

Too hot. This can’t be happening.

I had to get control of this situation quickly before I succumbed to the fight.

“Um…I – I’m not sure I heard you correctly,” I stammered, trying to recover from apparent shock.

“You heard me. Be ready at six o’clock. My driver will be by your apartment to pick you up,” he informed me as he stood up.

He has a driver? Of course he has a driver. How silly of me.

Justin pushed his chair under the table and turned to leave.

“Whoa, wait just a minute here! I said that I have plans.”

“Cancel them.”

“What if I don’t want to cancel? You can’t just order me about, Stone.” I tried to sound firm, but my voice sounded small to my ears.

“Do I strike you as the type of man who is easily put off? This is not a request, Selena. We can finalize the details of your employment tonight, then move on to discussing more interesting things. Six o’clock,” he reminded. “Oh, and one more thing. Don’t return the phone I gave you. You’ll need it when you come to work for me.”

The phone.

I had completely forgotten about it. I sat there, still wide-eyed, not sure what to make of the turn of events that had just unfolded. His assumption that I was going to accept his job offer was irritating. Ordering me to join him for dinner just plain ticked me off. But the fact that he came right out and said that he wanted me naked…well, that had the devil on my shoulder rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

I was so flustered that I didn’t even register that he had walked away from the table.

Wait – what just happened here?

I turned around in my chair and almost called out to him, to remind him that he didn’t know where I lived, but then I stopped myself. Justin Stone knew exactly where I lived. I had a new cell phone as proof.

I watched him saunter towards the exit. The man had the sexiest ass that I had ever seen. Just the sight of him had me throwing all reservations to the wayside. I wanted him. Desperately. No matter how hard I tried to fight it, I couldn’t resist him. I knew with an absolute certainty that I would be ready tonight when his driver came to pick me up.

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